Cause Baby It's You
by joutb
Summary: Brittany gets a fake girlfriend for her sister's wedding. But, perhaps, she doesn't want it to be fake anymore.
1. First Meet

**Hi guys!  
Well, here's the story I'm working on. Hope you like it!  
Xoxo  
Jout Jout**

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **First meet**

You're nervous. You're so fucking nervous. You're pretty sure you've straightened your dress at least a hundred times, even though you know it looks perfect on you.

"Stop bouncing on the chair." Quinn rolls her eyes at you playfully, smirking. "Come on Britt, you gotta trust me; this is like, the best idea I've ever had. And plus, she's super hot. You're gonna love her." She takes a sip from her coffee, offering you a reassuring smile.

"I'm not sure, Q." You mumble, looking down. "This just doesn't seem like a good idea. And why can't you do it anyway?" She shakes her head, giggling. "I mean, it would be pretty natural. I know you, you know me… they wouldn't even get suspicious about anything!"

"Yes, they would. Especially because half of your family already knows me, and even your cousins know I'm dating Noah. So no, Britt. Sorry."

You pout at that. You don't know why you agreed on that on first place. Actually, no, you do know. Your sister's wedding was getting pretty close, and you didn't want to show up without a date. Especially since your ex-boyfriend is the best man, so yeah, there's no fucking way you're showing up without someone. But still, it doesn't seem right. You never liked the idea of lying to your parents, but you were desperate. So when Quinn offered to help, well, you just couldn't say no.

"Oh, look who finally is here." Quinn said in a mocking tone, getting on her feet. You turned around sharply, trying to get a view of the woman. And, oh boy, what a view. "Britt, this is Santana. Satan, this is Brittany, my best friend." You awkwardly got on your feet, shaking the hand the woman offered you. You were stunned; you honestly thought that she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your whole life. She was around your age, between her twenties. Her hair was very dark and long, and she had tanned skin. But it wasn't that, or her killing body, or even her full-kissable lips that caught your attention. Her eyes; dark as her hair, but there was something about them. A glow you'd never seen in anyone else. "Britt, you can let go of her hand now."

You can feel your face burning and your eyes getting really wide. "Oh." You murmur, making her lips twist into a playful smile. "I-I'm sorry. It's nice to meet you Santana."

"You too." She then eyes Quinn. "You didn't poison my coffee, did you?"

"I thought about that, but I didn't want to leave Britt here disappointed." Quinn offers her a cup of coffee. "Dark and bitter, to match your soul." Santana laughs at that, rolling her eyes at your friend. You would tell Quinn to quit being rude, but – she seems okay with that.

"Thanks, Fabgay." She jokes back, turning to you. "So, I'll be your girlfriend for the week, huh?" Your face turns even redder, if that's possible.

"Yeah. I-if you're okay with that, of course."

"It's fine. It'll be fun to make fun of jackass." You eye Quinn angrily. "Oh, no. Don't worry, she just told me that an asshole would be there, and I was supposed to kick his ass if he bothers you too much."

"He's not an asshole." You murmur.

"Yes, he is. Don't let her get too close."

"Quinn!"

"Okay ladies!" Santana interrupts, and you huff. "Okay Barbie, I don't really think you have much else to do here. Thank you for your concern." She gets up, grabbing her coffee and your hot chocolate. "You mind walking me home? Then we could talk."

"S-sure." You once again get up awkwardly, grabbing your cup. Quinn rolls her eyes, but sends you an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but you're pretty sure you ended up grimacing at her.

Santana leads you outside Starbucks, walking in silent for a few minutes. "So, what do you do?" She asks after a few moments.

"I'm a dancer. I've been in some off-Broadway's shows, but I'm mostly a teacher now." You tell her, and she nods, beaming. "What about you?"

"Nothing too exciting. For now, I'm working on a coffee shop." She answers, shrugging. "I'm not sure about what I wanna do just yet."

"Well, that's alright." You pull back a strand of hair. "I mean, you're still pretty young. When I first came to New York, I wasn't sure of what I wanted to do myself. But I'm doing just fine now."

Surprisingly, talking to her was easily than you'd assumed. She was easy going, and although you two had way too little things in common, you found yourself completely absorbed in her words. "Well, that's where I stay." Santana told you, stopping in front of a red brick building. "Thanks for walking me."

"I, uh – i-it was nothing." You stutter, feeling your face turning red once again. "I-I'll see you on Friday?"

"Sure. Give me your phone." You hand it to her, and she returns it in a few seconds. "There. Now you have my number. Text me if you need anything."

"O-Okay."

"Wait, there's one more thing." She then steps closer to you, a bit too close. "Is it okay if I kiss you?" Your eyes widen, but she just smiles. "I just think it'll be better if we start getting used to it. You know, it'll look better than if we just kiss in front of everyone for the first time."

You gulp. "I-I guess." She looks inside your eyes for a brief second, and then carefully places her arms around your shoulders.

"Close your eyes." She whispers, and you do so. Before you realize, her lips are pressing on yours, smoothly and gently. You feel your whole body melting; it takes you a moment to react, but you finally pulls her closer by the waist. It's small, just a long peck, but it's enough to make your legs turn into jelly. "It sure won't be a problem kissing you." She whispers against your lips, and you smile. She gives you another peck before letting go of you. "I'll see you on Friday."

And you watch her leaving, standing domed in the middle of the sidewalk.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

It's only late in the evening when you grab your phone, text a message and stare at it for god knows how long before finally pressing send.

 _It sure won't be a problem kissing you as well_ _J_


	2. Day 1

**Day 1**

It's Friday, and you are late. You should already be with all of your stuff in the cab, which is already waiting downstairs for you, but you're still watering your plants and feeding your cat. So, yeah, you're pretty sure you're about to miss your flight, and Hannah will probably kill you when she finds out you'll not be there to teach her fiancée how to dance, and that your mom is gonna be pissed off, but – but then your phone rings.

You drop everything and run towards it, because you totally forgot Santana is probably already waiting for you, and right now you really wanna cry. "H-hey."

"Hey Britt. I'm almost leaving, do you need anything?" She asks, and right now, you can feel the tears rushing down your face. You're pretty sure you're sobbing. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"I-I'm not gonna make it." You sniffle, wiping a tear off your face. "I-I got a cab waiting downstairs for m-me, b-but I'm not n-nearly done with my stuff, a-and – gosh, I'm such a mess!" You hiccup on the phone, throwing yourself on the couch in defeat. "I-I'm really sorry, Santana. I'll try to book a flight for another day, i-if you're still up to –"

"No."

"N-no?" You pout, tears threatening to run down your cheeks again. "Y-you don't wanna go with me anymore?"

"What? No, that's not what – okay, Britt look: send the cab away and keep doing whatever you're doing. Text me your address and I'll be there in ten, okay?" You nod in agreement, but then you realize she can't actually see you.

"Okay."

You text her your address and go back on doing your stuff. You feed your cat, you write Quinn a few things she should know about Lord T., you finish watering your plants. You toss your dirty clothes on the laundry basket and you are starting to close your windows when the bell rings. You rush to the door, facing a grinning Santana. "Hi." She says, leaning in and kissing your cheek. "Okay, what do you need help with?"

"C-can you help me close the windows? I-I gotta call Quinn and make sure she'll remember to come over." Santana nods and you grab your phone as you both start moving.

You have a quick chat with Quinn on the phone, and she assures you for the hundredth time that yes Britt, I am coming over to feed LT. No, I won't forget to give him water. And she tells you once again not to worry and to have fun with Santana, which makes your cheeks burn and your ears as well. You can tell she's smirking at the other side.

Just then you go after Santana. And, surprisingly, you find her comfortably sitting on your couch, scratching LT's ears. And he's purring. He never purrs at strangers.

"He really likes you, I guess." You mumble, offering her a shy smile. She smiles back, getting on her feet and walking towards you.

"Ready to go?" You nod, grabbing one of your bags. Santana grabs the other, even though you tell her you can manage to carry both. "My friend is waiting for us downstairs. Don't mind him; he can be a little… eccentric."

And, indeed, she was right. You found yourself in the backseat of a car with a slim guy wearing clothes way too colorful, even for you. He was definitely something.

"Britt, this is Kurt. Kurt, this is Brittany. Please, don't freak her out." Santana says, buckling her belt. "What the hell is this on your head?"

"It's my tiara, Santana. I didn't have time to fix my hair." He rolls his eyes at her. "Nice to meet you, Brittany."

"You too, Kurt."

You don't keep much of a conversation. Most of the time Santana keeps arguing with Kurt, both making bitter comments of each other. But still, you can tell he likes her, and otherwise. So you just smile.

It takes you nearly half an hour to arrive at the airport, and you've got like, twenty minutes to dispatch your luggage and be inside the airplane. And, surprisingly, you manage to do so in fifteen minutes. You'd rather think that the staff was competent, but you're pretty sure it has something to do with the deaf stare Santana sent half of them.

And now she's sitting by your side, turning off her phone and buckling her belt. You noticed she shut her eyes tightly when the pilot announced you were ready to take off, and the plane started moving. "You're not a big fan of planes, are you?" You asked softly. She opened one of her eyes, glancing at you. Then, she shut them close again, nodding furiously. "You can hold my hand, if it makes you feel any better." You offered, and as soon as you finished talking, she grabbed your hand. You lifted the armrest, and she shifted closer to you, as if trying to hide in your arms. And you let her do so; you held her close during the whole take-off, even though you felt a little bit weird doing so. You weren't used with having anyone that close anymore; you hadn't been with anyone since the break-up. And it had been months.

"Thanks." She mumbled once the plane stabilized. But she didn't move at all. And you didn't complain.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You woke up with the voice of the pilot saying you were ready to land in Lima, OH. Santana was asleep, her head resting on your shoulder. You didn't wake her; she seemed to have had a tough flight. You didn't know how someone could sleep in that position for so long. It seemed pretty uncomfortable.

Only when the plane finally hit the ground she woke up, seeming unaware of where she was. Then she looked at you and offered you a lazy smile, yawning and stretching herself. "Hey you."

"Hi yourself." You greeted, turning your face to her.

"How much did I sleep?" She asked, still with that lazy smile upon her lips.

"Uh, pretty much the whole flight." You laugh. "We're already in Lima." Santana nods, yawning once again and then taking a look around. You followed her eyes, landing on an old lady looking with both of you with some sort of disgust. Santana quirked a brow at her and opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but then you placed your hand on her thigh. "Don't."

"She's being an old bitch." She muttered under her breath, making you giggle. "I bet she's been staring at us the whole flight."

"Let her. She must be jealous." Santana rolled her eyes, but smiled and leaned back onto you. You wanted to tell her that pissing an old lady off wasn't very nice, but, but –

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Your dad was already waiting on the parking lot, with a smile so large that could barely fit on his face. You could see him from a very long distance; not because of his height, but because he was wearing a garish orange shirt. Still, you couldn't help but smile; it had been so long since you were home for the last time that you were afraid you'd forget his face.

"Oh, Brittany!" Your father squealed, raising his arms to hug you. He was way shorter than you; actually, you weren't even a little bit like him. He was Asian, short and a little bit chubby. Of course, since he wasn't your biological father, you couldn't expect to be alike him. But you loved him, with all of your heart. "I missed you! It's been so long!"

"Hey dad." You smiled softly, hugging him back. Then, as soon as you managed to make him let go of your neck, you took a step back, grabbing Santana's hand clumsily. "Dad, this is Santana, my girlfriend. San, this is Pierce Pierce, my dad."

"Oh, this is your famous girlfriend! Nice move, Britt-Britt!" He then moved to hug Santana, standing on his toes. She seemed a little surprised with the sudden affection; she didn't seem a lot like a hugger, differently from your whole family. But as soon as she recovered herself, she hugged him back.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Pierce." She said politely, but your dad shook his head.

"No need for formalities! Call me Pierce." Yes, you were quite aware that his name was a little odd, but Santana didn't seem taken aback by that. "Okay kids, put your stuff in the car; daddy is taking you home!" Santana quirked a brow, smiling, and you muffled a groan. He could be a little eccentric sometimes.

You both sat on the backseats, because your dad insisted you and your new girlfriend, which, by the way, is so much better than that other one you brought last Christmas. You rolled your eyes at your dad's comments on how pretty you were, and how old he was, and how awesome it was that you finally got a girlfriend, and, and –

"Are you all good for Hannah's engagement dinner?" He asked, and you and Santana both replied with a 'yes'. "Great! She's super nervous about everything else, Britty. She was scared you wouldn't be here in time to teach her and Hamp how to dance!"

"It's Hank, dad. And I'm only helping him; Hannah already got the moves." You smile. Santana lifts her hand and strokes your cheek, making you gulp at the sudden contact.

"You got the moves, Britt." She says softly, smiling at you. You hear your dad releasing an awn, but you are too focused on her hand. You close your eyes, unconsciously appreciating the human heat she generates.

"But you know who will be there too, little bug?" Your face burns at the old nickname. "Sam! Did you know he and Harry are old friends?" You wanted to groan so badly. Santana frowns, but then seems to realize who he was talking about. "He's the best man, by the way."

"Yes dad, I'm aware Sam and Hank are old friends. Hank introduced us." Oh, right!, your dad says; Santana slides her hand closer to you, placing it on top of yours. She moves a bit closer, laying her head on your shoulder once again. You don't speak until the end of the drive.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Your parent's house smells like cookies. Your mom has been baking, you realize. You tried to take the luggage out of the car, but your dad told you to get inside to see your mom, that he could manage that. So now you're standing in the hallway, holding Santana's hand and guiding her to the kitchen. Until a shorter girl practically knocked you on the ground by jumping directly in your arms.

"Britt! I thought you wouldn't make it!" You smiled, hugging your sister back. "God, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Han." You say, letting go of her. You take a moment to look at her. She still looks the same; brown hair, her blue eyes slightly slanted, revealing a few Asian features. She was shorter than you, but you still could tell you were sisters. Maybe because you both looked a lot more like your mother than with your dads. "Come here." You pull Santana closer, and she slides an arm around your waist. "Han, this is Santana. Santana, this is Hannah, my little sister."

"Great to finally meet you, Hannah." Santana said, not taken aback this time with the hug.

"You too." She replies. "Come on, mom is waiting in the kitchen."

So you go to the kitchen. She meets your mom. Your mom meets her. She offers Santana her cookies; hell, she never lets anyone eat the cookies before you're all together. They tell Santana funny stories about you. And she's actually great to them; she laughs at each one of them, she even mocks you a little bit. And then she's just – she's resting her chin on your shoulder, telling your mom her cookies are delicious and listening to your sister's stories about college.

Your mom seems to like her. Actually, your whole family, even Hank, seem to like her a lot. And suddenly, you can't help but feel a little bit guilty.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You take her to your old room, never letting go of her hand. Not even when you finally get inside the room and there's no one looking, but she doesn't say a word about it. You haven't been saying a lot, actually. And you know she noticed; you can feel her eyes at you even though your back is turned. You feel your bed sink a bit more when she sits behind you, placing her arm around your shoulders. You don't talk, and neither does she. You just keep in silence for a brief moment.

"They really like you, you know." You mumble, and she sits even closer to you, wrapping her arms around your body.

"Yeah, they do." She agrees, and you allow yourself to rest your body on hers. "But they love you even more than they like me." You turn your face to look at her, meeting her dark eyes. It makes you shiver. "Just relax, okay? It'll be alright in the end." You nod, and you don't complain when she pulls you a bit closer, holding you and murmuring soft words through your hair.

"What do you wanna do?" You ask after a while, still in her arms.

"What you mean? Aren't we supposed to get ready for dinner?"

"No, I mean like – like what you wanna do professionally." She bits her lower lip, seeming really in doubt of what to tell you.

"I don't know yet, B." She finally says, and you nod silently. "Okay, come on. Go take a shower."

"Do I smell?" You ask, smiling at her. She laughs, letting go of you.

"Yes, you do. Come on, missy. Shower."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You couldn't be any more uncomfortable. Your uncles and aunts keep asking you some odd questions about your relationship with Santana, and you don't really know how to answer them, so you try your best to change subjects. Which is clearly not working.

"I'll be right back." You tell them, while they're in an awkward conversation on how you and Santana have sex.

Speaking of the devil…

You glance around the room, trying to find your girlfriend for the week. Her eyes find yours, and you notice she's in a deep conversation with your little sister and her fiancée. She winks at you, and you are pretty sure your heart stops beating for a second. She's just – something.

And after that you need air. You say 'hi' and 'hello' to a bunch of people you don't even remember, but you can tell that are your relatives. All of them are either blonde or Asians. You can't help but smile when you realize how Santana outstands in the middle of them.

So you open the door to the front yard, and regret in the immediate second. You even think about closing the door and rushing back to Santana, but he's already seen you. "Britt! Hi." Sam greets, in his charming smile.

He's changed a little. His hair is now short again, thankfully, and he looks even stronger than the last time you saw him. Apart from that, still the same. Tall, blonde, blue eyes. Big mouth, but it was quite charming. As your mom used to say, he looked like one of you.

"H-hi." You stutter, taking a step back. No. You promised Quinn you wouldn't. You are better than this.

"You look great!" Oh god. No. You need help, right now. Anyone. You want Santana to be there. "How have you been?"

"Great!" You squeak, in a clear lie. "A-and you?"

"I've been missing you." He says, leaning on the wall. "Real badly."

"Excuse me asshole!" You turn around sharply, meeting dark eyes, clearly annoyed. "Do you mind if I steal my cousin from you real quickly? Hah, of course you don't. You didn't mind dumping her after two years together." She then grabbed your arm, pulling you with her. "Stay away, Bieber!" She yelled, pulling you inside the house once again. "Should I smack some sense into this empty head of yours?" Sugar snapped, then threw her arms around your neck. "I missed your stupidity. Sorry, Asperger's."

"I missed you too, Sug." You sigh, hugging her back. "Did Quinn text you?"

"Yeah, she told me to keep you away from Vagina Lips." She shrugged, making you roll her eyes. "But seriously, how can you even pay him any attention when you got a hottie like that waiting for you?" She gestures towards Santana. The Latina catches your eyes, sending you a smile. "Gosh, I think I might turn into a lesbian."

"Shut up." You giggle. "She's coming here." You say, as Santana walks towards both of you.

"Fuck, look at these legs." Sugar whispered, poking your ribs. "Hi, I'm Sugar! Britt's cousin." She introduced herself, practically jumping in front of you.

"Santana." The brunette shook the hand sugar offered. "Do you mind if we go upstairs for just a second? We need to talk." Sugar quirked a brow and smirked, and you blushed really hard but nodded, following Santana upstairs to your room. "Okay, listen. What's going on between you and Trouthy?"

"His name is Sam. Don't call him that." You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. She sighs, clearly upset.

"It's nothing personal. I give everyone a nickname." She says, and you look at her.

"What's mine?"

She smiles, a wide smile. "Bella." She answers, with a Hispanic accent.

"What does that means?" She shakes her head, smirking.

"I'll never tell." You pout, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Okay, what's going on?"

"I don't know."

"What you mean you don't know?"

"It means exactly what I said."

"Okay, look." She sighs again, but keeps her voice in a soft tune. "Do you want to be with him or not? Because if you do, there's no reason for me to be here. A-and I don't wanna be a dead weight in your life."

You gulp, avoiding her eyes. You don't answer her for a moment. So she shifts closer, pressing her front against your back in an awkward hug, but that you still appreciate. "I can't be with him again. He – he really hurt me, Santana." You stop a moment to catch your breath. "I caught him in bed with another girl. A-and it broke me so badly that I haven't been with anyone for almost a year. You were my first kiss after – after him." She doesn't say anything, just keeps holding you closer. "I need you. You can't – y-you can't leave. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere." She promises, pressing her lips to your cheek. "And I can assure you, he'll be sorry he ever hurt you." You sniffle but smile at that, resting your head on her shoulder. You two stay in that position for a long time, in a comfortable silence. "I think your cousin thinks we are having sex."

"I think everyone's thinking the same now." You laugh, as she lets go of you. She strokes your cheeks, cleaning the tears that remained there.

"Can I ask you something?" She says, and you nod. "Your dad –"

"He's not my biological father." You answer quickly. "My real dad is Stephen Hawking."

"What the hell? B-but, I mean, how?"

"Long story." You laugh, getting on your feet and offering her your hand. "Come on; I'll tell you downstairs."


	3. Day 2

**Day 2**

When you first wake up, you notice your body is tangled to Santana's. Your cheeks burn; you weren't used to have someone sleeping by your side anymore, and you had always been a cuddle monster. But, as awkward as it felt, it was still better being a cuddler than being a kicker.

Carefully not to wake your "girlfriend" up, you untangle yourself from Santana as carefully as you can. And she doesn't even move; she keeps her face buried in her pillow, hands clutching tightly on your sheets. You smiled. She looked awfully adorable, like a little kid. And you can't help yourself; you sit in the edge of your bed, pulling a few strands of messy, dark hair away from her eyes. You watch her for a moment, completely aware that it was creepy as fuck, and you'd have some explanation to do when she woke up, but, but –

You lift your hand, stroking her hair lightly. Then you get yourself together once again, getting on your feet and walking away from bed. You grab your phone, checking the time. It was really early; it wasn't even eight a.m. yet. So you walk back to bed, lying on her side. And then she moves. Still asleep, she turns to you and wraps her arms around your waist tightly. Your eyes widen at first, but then you relax.

It was sure nice not being the only cuddle monster in the room.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Your parents and your sister aren't home. It's almost eleven a.m., and they left you and Santana a note saying they'd be in the market, because your aunt Holly was coming over to meet your gorgeous "girlfriend". Considering your parents always took at least two hours shopping, because your dad insisted that you had to read all of the labels from every fucking thing, and considering the market opened at ten a.m. – well, summing up, you'd starve.

You looked to the frying pan in front of you, and then to the untouched bacon and eggs on the other side. And then you gave up, because seriously, you had no idea where to start.

In New York, you used to have cereals for breakfast, and you had been surviving with frozen meals and with the food Quinn cooked you sometimes. It was fine, really, but in this house there were no Lucky Charms or frozen food, because your dad insisted it was poison. And since you'd always been a disaster in the kitchen, (you almost set your apartment on fire once, but that's another story) you were pretty much trying to figure if it was better to starve or to die of food poisoning.

"Morning." You turn around sharply, making Santana quirk a brow. You totally forgot she was there. "Sorry."

"It's okay." You mumble, turning around to the untouched food once again. "We'll starve."

"Don't wanna kill the mood, but I can see food right in front of me." She smirks, standing by your side. "You need help with that?"

"No, I need someone to do everything for me." You answer with a growl. "Seriously. Everything I touch in the kitchen is very alike to be destroyed." It makes her giggle, so you smile. "Seriously. I tried to make pancakes once; I still haven't managed to get everything off of my ceiling."

"Oh my god!" She laughs, covering her mouth. "Okay, let's make sure you don't touch anything then. For now."

"What?" You gasp. "You can cook?"

"Yeah, a thing or two." She smiles shyly. "Come on, stay right here. I'll teach you at least how to fry an egg."

"You're literally the best!" She rolls her eyes playfully at you, grabbing the pan and oil to start the food. You watch as she breaks an egg, the way she moves the pan, and as that disgusting, viscous thing becomes a beautiful egg. She easily slides the egg to a plate, then hands you the pan. "I thought you were kidding."

"No, I'm not." She smirks. "I don't want my girlfriend to starve when we break up."

"I'm seriously considering keeping you." You grimace at the pan, as she insists to hand you that. "Come on."

"Don't be so grumpy; even I am not that grumpy, and it's really early."

"It's eleven a.m." You point out, but she sticks her tongue at you.

"Still too early for me. Come on."

It takes you both half an hour to cook everything, because Santana insisted you should learn. But you made it, and you actually didn't burn anything. Maybe because for once no one was yelling at you while you tried to cook. She was incredibly patient all the time, and she made a smiley face on your plate. You can't help but find her even more adorable than you already thought she was. "This is so good. We're not breaking up anymore; I'm definitely keeping you."

"You know where I live Britt; you can always show up for food." She tells you, and then she stops. "Or to see me, of course."

"Promise?"

"Of course. We're friends, right?" She looks at you, and you nod furiously, while stuffing more food in your mouth. "Britt, I promise the bacon won't turn into a pig and run away from your plate. Slow down."

"But it's like, so good!" You say with your mouth full, and she laughs.

"You said that already, B. Slow down; I don't want you to choke."

You nod and do as she tells you. A while later, your parents and your sister get home. You're still eating, because you asked Santana to make you more bacon. Hers was so crispy and so – well, much better than your mom's. "Morning!" You two greet at the same time, giggling like two idiots. Hannah rolls her eyes, sticking her hand to your plate and grabbing some bacon. "Hey! Make your own, Hannah Banana!"

"Don't be so selfish, Britty." She shouts back, already running upstairs. Your parents kiss you and Santana both good morning, carrying the bags inside. Santana offers to help, but they decline, telling her to keep you company. And you are kind of glad she stays; she's making you laugh with her stories from Puerto Rico, where her family was from. And you found out little Santana was sassy, a little aggressive, but also incredibly sweet. And now, you are wishing you two had met a long time ago.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Don't worry too much; she's pretty nice." You promise her, zipping Santana's dress. "I-I mean, she's always been great to me. I – she can be a little too much sometimes, of course. Like, she makes some awkward jokes, but she's m-mostly nice."

"Is she important to you?" She asks, turning around to face you. You nod, and she offers you a smile. "Then don't worry. I'm only not gonna be nice if someone is not nice to you."

"Like a body guard?" She laughs, nodding.

"Or like an overprotective girlfriend. Pick one." You roll your eyes, turning your body to the mirror. Santana walks slowly, stopping right behind you. She wraps her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Well, aren't we the most lovely couple ever?"

"That we are." You agree, turning your face and kissing her head. "Come on, San. I'm really hungry."

"Are you serious right now?" She laughs, holding your hand. "I made like, a whole package of bacon for you."

"You ate it too!"

"Alright, alright." She agrees, smiling. "I'm kind of hungry too."

"Ha! See?" You giggled, pulling her downstairs. "Mom and Aunt Holly H. are probably wondering where we are. I'm sure you're gonna love the apple pie my mom's –" Santana suddenly stops, frowning. You turn around, standing right in front of her. "Are you okay? You look kinda pale."

"What's your aunt's name?" She half-whispers, pulling you to the living room.

"Holly. Holly Holiday." Her eyes widen and her mouth opens in the shape of an 'O'. "Yeah, it's not exactly a common name, but she's pretty –"

"I can't meet her." She blurts out.

"What? W-why not?" You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't wanna do this anymore?"

"No, Britt. Not that." She hisses. "I can't meet her because I already know her!"

"Well, there you are!" Your mom says, entering in the living room. Right behind her, a tall, slim, blonde woman appears, smiling at you and – quirking a brow at Santana. "Brittany, manners. Won't you introduce Santana to your aunt?"

"Oh, no need to, Whitney." Holly says, smirking. "We've already met. Santanita here is my goddaughter." She then takes a step closer, embracing both of you in a crushing hug. "I missed you both. Santana, su estúpida, ¿por qué no llamaste?" She snapped something you didn't quite get in Spanish, smacking Santana's head lightly.

"What did she say?" You asked the brunette, who was massaging her head.

"She asked why I didn't call." She answered, biting her lip. Holly smacked her head again. "Ow!"

"Whitney, do you mind if I have a word with these two? Just a quick chat, I'll be in the kitchen in five." Your aunt said, ignoring Santana. You held the brunette's hand more firmly, gulping as your mom nodded happily and walked back to the kitchen, leaving the three of you alone. "You have five minutes to explain what the hell is going on here."

"We are dating." You answer quickly, but seriously, not even you can trust your voice. She rolls her eyes at you, in a very similar way Santana does when she's bored.

"Do I look like an idiot, Brittany?" She snapped. "Last time I checked, Santana here didn't have a new girlfriend. Not even a friend."

"Well, I got one now." Santana answered, her voice shaking.

"I called three days ago."

"Okay!" You interrupted. "It was my idea. We aren't dating –"

"Obviously." Holly says, but you ignore her.

"- but no one knows that. She's here because – because I didn't want to show up alone. With Sam here and all, I just – I thought that it would be a good idea." You bite your lips, feeling your eyes getting teary. "Which clearly wasn't, considering the way you are looking at me right now."

"Oh honey." Your aunt sighs, taking a step closer and hugging you. "It wasn't the brightest idea, but it's okay. When I decided to dress up as Santana's History teacher and got arrested two hours later – well, it also wasn't my brightest idea. But, sometimes, the worst ideas are exactly the right ones."

"How come?" You whisper. Santana took a seat on the couch, not too far away from you, wanting to give you some privacy.

"Well, it sometimes turns out to be great things. And sometimes it works out, even when it isn't supposed to." She whispers back, wiping a tear away from your eye. "I don't think Santana has made a good deed for someone else since she found out Santa Claus doesn't exist. And yet – well, here we are."

"No, that's – we are not –"

"Don't say so too soon." She winked at you, taking a step back. "I think you two look quite sweet together." Your face burned, and she turned around to face Santana. "And you, maybe Brittany can teach you how to use your phone. Calling once in a while wouldn't hurt, you know?"

"Sorry?" She apologized, a small smile on her lips. Your aunt shrugged, winking at both of you and making her way back to the kitchen. "Are you okay?" She asked softly, walking towards you. "Britt, you're crying."

"I'm fine, really." You said, smiling at her concern. She lifts her hand, wiping the traces of tears away from your cheeks. "Come on, let's eat. I'll show you around today."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You took Santana around town. Not that there was much to see, but you liked to be around her, and you had the day off, so you decided to go with it. You didn't do much; you two went to a few shops, walked around the downtown, got a cup of coffee and now you're sitting in Lima's Park, a small, beautiful place you used to come when you were a kid. You took her to a nice spot there, somewhere people would hardly ever come around. You really liked that spot, and you took her there because – because you trusted her. You knew it was silly; you'd met a week and a half ago, and you hadn't really talked face to face, just texted until now. And yet – there was something about her. It was quite intriguing actually. But you liked it.

"Can we play a game?" You asked, and she quirked a brow. "The questions game."

"Okay." She shrugged, shifting closer to you on the coat you had placed on the grass so you could lie there. "You first."

"Hmm… your full name?"

"What? I'm dating someone who doesn't know my full name?" She joked. "It's Santana Marie Lopez."

"Marie?" You ask, and she grimaces.

"Yeah, mama wanted to keep the tradition. It's a family's name."

"I like it." You shrug. "Your turn."

"Alright, alright, let me think." She pressed her lips together, making a thin line. "Your worst fear?"

"Storms." You answer quickly. "And clowns. I really don't like clowns." She looks at you in amusement for a second, before nodding. "Okay, my turn. Uh, do you – do you have any tattoos? Or piercings?"

"I did have a piercing once. And yes, a few tattoos." She pulled her shirt up, almost until her bra, showing a New York's skyline tattooed to her skin. "It's my city of dreams. I made this one when I first came to New York." She explained. Unconsciously, you lifted your hand to touch it, tracing the thin line of the skyline. "And I have this one." She pointed to a date, September 10th. You frowned at it, and she smiled. "It's the day I came out to my parents. The day I was finally free."

"They're really beautiful." You mumble, moving your hand back to the ground.

"Thanks." She pulled her shirt down again. "Any hobbies?"

"I really like to dance." You answered with a smile.

"Britt! You are a dancer. That doesn't count."

"Okay, okay." You nod in agreement. "Uh, I really like to draw."

"Draw?"

"Yeah, draw. I could show you a few someday." You offer, and she smiles. "Okay. If you could choose anything to do for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

"I, uh –"

"Britt!" You both turned around sharply, meeting big blue eyes smiling at you. "Fancy seeing you here." You gulp, sitting straight once again, with Santana mirroring your moves. "Who's your friend? I'm Sam. Sam Evans."

"I'm Santana Lopez." The brunette introduced herself before you could speak. "Her girlfriend."

"Oh." He mumbles, moving his eyes to her for a moment then to you. "I didn't know you seeing someone."

"Yeah, we've been together for a while." She smiled sweetly at him, too sweetly to be true. She leaned and kissed your cheek. "Right baby?"

"R-right." You stutter, looking briefly at her with a smile and then turning to him. "We met in New York two months ago. It was like I've known her for my whole life."

"Yeah, I didn't know you did girls." He said, now staring at Santana. You felt the grip on your waist tightening.

"Yes, you did." You hissed, upset. "I told you I'm bi."

"Bi curious." He corrected. "I thought it was just a phase."

"Well, it clearly wasn't." She cut him off, her tone suddenly a lot more threatening than before. "It was nice meeting you, Sam."

"You too." He mumbled. "I should go. See you around."

You watched him leave in silence. You didn't move or say a word, just stood there. Santana moved a bit closer, pulling you into her arms. And you let her – you fell straight onto her embrace, laying your head in her chest and holding her waist. "Do you wanna go home?" She asked quietly, after a few moments. You nodded. "Alright. Come on, B. Let's go home."


	4. Day 3

**Day 3**

Santana drags you down the street, an arm wrapped around your waist. Your sister and Hank walk are a little bit further, walking hand in hand as she laughs at something her fiancée was saying. "Where are we going?" You ask Santana once again, but she just giggles, leaning in and kissing your temple.

"If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore." You pout, and she presses another kiss to your cheek, smiling. "That's so not gonna work, Ms. Pierce." You can't help but smile too, tightening the hold around her shoulders.

"This is my home town and you are the one taking me for walks." You say, and she shrugs.

"You can take me out whenever you want." She says simply, but it makes your heart beats a little bit faster. You turn your face to kiss her hair, making her lips curl into a smile. "What are we up to today?" She asks, following your sister with her eyes.

"Uh, not much." You shrug. "We're free today, I guess. But I'll need you more in the evening. We're having a little volleyball game."

"And Trouthy – Sam will be there." She finishes, and you nod. "Okay. We can beat his ass."

"He was the captain of his team in college and high school, San. And he's way bigger than both of us." She quirks a brow, smirking. "You're scaring me. What are you thinking?"

"That I am beating his ass on this game." She answers, pulling you closer by the waist. "Hannah! Is this the one?" She calls your sister, and the smaller girl nods. You look to the other side, eyes widening as you find the old ice cream parlor that you used to come when you were younger.

"You are taking me for ice cream?" You ask in disbelief, as her cheeks grow slightly red. "And how the hell did you know I used to come here?"

"I never said I knew." She jokes, watching the tiny smile that's showing up on your face. "Well, your mom did mention you used to come around a lot here when you were a kid, a-and you looked kind of sad yesterday, so I thought – I thought it would cheer you up a little. Ice cream always makes me better."

Your eyes got teary, and you could see a hint of nervousness in hers. "You're just – gosh." You can't help it. You lean in and kiss her, not bothering if you are in the middle of the street and that a car could easily run over both of you, nor if your sister is staring or how awkward Santana might have felt, because seriously, there was no one listening. But then again, she's the one who is kissing you back. "Thank you. This is really sweet." You whisper through her lips, and she smiles.

"Well, I'm your friend, right? That's what friends are here for." She tells you, taking a step back. You nod in agreement, because what the hell were you supposed to say? "Come on, Britt. I don't want your sister to eat everything without us."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You are sure not ready for this. But here you are wearing your old Cheerio's jersey; with a matching one you got Santana. You two looked ridiculous wearing exactly the same clothes, but your mom promised you looked adorable together. But, since she and your dad had matching shirts, you didn't really count her opinion.

You formed teams. You, Santana, Hank, Hannah and Sugar were at the same team, plus your dad. Sam was on the other team, with a few other fellows, mostly Hank and Hannah's friends. You were damn nervous. Your stomach ached, and you weren't so sure if it was a good idea to play.

"You look awful." Santana mumbled, wrapping her arms around you. "No offense, of course." You laughed, turning around to face her. "You don't have to play if you don't want to. You know that, right?" You nodded, taking a step closer and resting your forehead on hers. "If you want to, we can tell I had a stomachache and run away from this."

"I can't run away forever, but thanks." You answered, before placing a kiss on the bridge of her nose. "Come on. They're waiting." You hold her hand, pulling Santana by the hand to the field. Sam was staring at you; he didn't seem happy at all. You didn't look at him, but you could feel his stare burning your back. And Santana, she noticed. So she grabbed your hand more firmly, pulling you as far as it was possible from him. And you were sort of glad for that.

"Good luck." She whispered, kissing your cheek. Your cousin, Sugar, gave you thumbs up. You didn't know exactly what the hell she was doing there, since she hated sports more than you hated – well, you didn't actually hate anything, but she really didn't like sports.

It was all going just fine. Santana was actually great; she scored most of the points for your team. Hannah and Hank were good too, but Sugar mostly ran away from the ball and you – well, you didn't like sports with balls very much. But you were fine; you caught the ball a few times, and you scored a point or two. And really, you were even starting to like the game, until it was your turn to serve.

You couldn't remember a time when you scored a point by a serve. You could never make it; you didn't have the coordination or the strength to make the ball go very far. So no, you didn't make it. And you almost threw the ball on Santana's head. Your cheeks burned as you made your way back to your position. She winked at you, throwing the ball for the other team.

"It's okay Britt!" Sam yelled. "Sports aren't exactly your thing anyway!" It only made you blush harder. You looked to Santana, but she wasn't looking at you. She had that look in her eyes; the same she had when that old lady kept staring at you, or when the airport staff's almost made you lose your flight. And, to be honest, that look scared the hell out of you.

You didn't see what happened. Carson, the other best man, served the ball. You heard Santana yelling "mine!", and then Hannah got out of her way. She jumped high, like real high for someone who wasn't that tall, and then spiked towards the other team. The next thing you knew, Sam was fallen on the floor with both of his hands covering his nose, Sugar laughing real loudly and Santana mumbling some apologies.

"Well, I think we should take a little break?" Hank suggested, looking at your wide eyes. "Uh, I'll – maybe you guys should get the barbecue started? I, uh – I'll see if everything is okay." You nodded, too shocked to answer.

You turned around, seeing Santana sitting next to a tree on the grass. Slowly, you made your way towards her. You didn't know exactly how to deal with that; she was obviously angry, not with you, but still. Her forehead had a little frown, and she was biting her lower lip. Maybe she wasn't mad. She looked upset.

"I'm sorry." She says as soon as you approach. You sit down next to her, nodding in silence. "Okay, I'm not that sorry. He deserved it."

"Don't say that." You say, squeezing her knee.

"But he did, Britt." She fights back. "He was being a little bitch to you."

"He was always like that; it's just how it is." You mumble, and immediately regret the word that came out of your mouth. Her eyes widened and so did her mouth; you shut your eyes, covering your face.

"What the hell Britt? W-why would you put up with that?" You peek between your fingers. Okay, she wasn't mad. Her voice was as soft as it was possible, you guessed. "You deserve way much better than this. Y-you – I just can't imagine why."

"Because I loved him, that's why!" You yell, and if you weren't so upset, you'd feel bad for it, because she shrank at your voice. "I-I – when he was gone, I was always worried. Because – because I loved him so much I didn't want to lose him to another girl. I didn't – I never thought I was good enough." You sniffle, feeling a tear dropping. "And obviously I wasn't; if so, we wouldn't be here." You two stay in silence for a moment. You stare at the camp, where he's still sitting, now with some guy doing the first aid. Your tears still fall all over your face.

"That's not love, Brittany." She says softly. You embrace your knees, feeling her getting closer. "Love is – well, love is when you can feel completely safe with someone. When you can feel completely loved and fully accepted by who you are, not who they want you to be." She lifted her hand, wiping the tears away from your eyes. "I'm not saying you didn't like him. But that's definitely not love – that's addiction." She carefully wraps her arms around you, in an awkward hug. "Look: someday, when you have a nice someone helping you cook dinner while your kids run in your house chasing your cat, you'll remember him. And you'll laugh, because seriously, that douchebag just lost the most wonderful woman ever." You smile, sniffling and turning around to return the hug. "You'll be really happy, Britt. You deserve to."

"You have no idea how glad I am that you are here." You tell her, resting your head on her shoulder. She rests her head upon yours; you can feel her lips twisting on a smile through your hair. "Have you ever loved someone?" You ask, after a while. And she stops. You can literally feel her stop breathing, and you think her heart skipped a beat.

"No. No, I don't think so, Britt." She answers, after a very long time. You nod, melting once again in her arms. "You asked me what I wanted to do with my life."

"You found an answer?" She smiles, and you twist your body a little so you can look at her.

"I always loved singing."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You are both standing alone, in the middle of Holly Holiday's living room. She's in the kitchen, making coffee and cutting a chocolate cake your mom made for you. It's just the three of you; and Lion, Holly's Golden Retriever, but he doesn't really count.

So yeah, you and Santana are both sitting in a bench, in front of Holly's piano. You watch in silence as the brunette stare at the keys, running her fingers through them, but without pressing any. "Are you really singing me a song?" You asked, and she smiled.

"Well, yeah. You asked, didn't you?" You nod silently, watching her hands. "What do you want to hear?"

"Pick anything. I just wanna know if you are as good as you claim." You tease, and she rolls her eyes, pushing you lightly.

"I'm awesome. Just watch."

And you did so. You sat there, watching amused as she started playing the chords of Back to Black, by Amy Winehouse. And you watched, with your big blue eyes widened, as she started to sing. Her voice echoing on the hallways, through your ears and through your skin. Her voice was hypnotizing; it made you drown into every word she sung, your heart beating faster than usual. And when she stopped singing, you kissed her. Hard, open mouthed. And it took her a moment to react; honestly, you weren't waiting for this. And you are the one who started. But she kissed you back; her hands buried in your hair, and you didn't know why you were kissing her, you didn't – you just did it.

And when you broke the kiss, you didn't know what to do, or what to say. You just – you kept staring at her eyes, watching as she caught her breath. Her lipstick was slightly smudgy, and you were sure there was some on you now. "I'll take you liked the song?" She asked, breaking the awkward silence you'd set.

"You're pretty good. I mean it." You answered between pants. She nodded, smiling and looking down to her lap. You wanted to kiss her again. But you wouldn't. That was already so messed up, you didn't – you couldn't let this get any more confusing. "I'm really hungry. Do you, uh – are you hungry too?"

"Yeah." She mumbled, eyes looking back at you. "We should see if the coffee is ready."

"Right."

"Right."


	5. Day 4

**Day 4**

You've been trying not to get awkward with her. And you know she's been trying too; you can tell by the way she's been acting. But it obviously isn't working. You two have been acting like two hormonal teenagers with their first crush after their first kiss. Not that you have a crush on her. Or otherwise.

Just this morning, you woke up spooning her. Again. But this time, it felt like, really wrong. And, as comfortable as you were, you had to untangle yourself from her hug, because you didn't want it to get creepier than it already was. And when she woke up, you two got downstairs to have breakfast and you reached for the doorknob at the same time, and like, your hands touched for a second, but it felt like forever, and, and –

And now you were sitting by her side, her hand lying uncomfortably on your lap, as your dad and Hank finished pushing the furniture aside. You'd teach him the basics to have his first dance with your baby sister, as you promised like, a dozen times. "Do you think this is gonna work?" Hannah whispered. "I mean, he's awesome and all at everything but – well, let's say he has a few problems with coordinating both feet all at once." You laughed, and Santana smiled too. "I mean it, Britt. He's the clumsiest person I've ever met."

"I'll make it work out." You promise, and Santana squeezes your hand. You look at her, trying to read her mind for a second. You wonder if you should talk about what happened. And then you put this idea aside. No need to talk about what happened. It was just – just the moment. "I'll need a partner. Do you, uh – do you mind?"

"Not at all." She smiles, and you see a bit of nervousness in her smile. "We need to talk." Oh no. Hell no. Why the hell can't she share the same thoughts as you? "Are you okay? You don't look well." She lifts her hand to touch your forehead. "Britt, are you feeling sick?"

"N-no, I'm all good." You lied. Okay, maybe you'd been feeling a little dizzy this morning, but you were pretty sure it was all because of the situation. You weren't sick. Definitely not sick. "Okay! Come on guys, we have a lot of work to do." You felt the worry in Santana's eyes, but you chose to ignore it. "San, come here. We'll start with the basics." She eyed you, but you didn't dare to look at her. You were a terrible liar. "Hank, just do exactly the same I'll do. Promise it won't be this hard."

"I trust you." He smiled nervously, mirroring your moves. Santana placed her hand on your shoulder, as you grabbed the other one. You dared to look at her, just to find out she was still staring at you with the same worried eyes a moment before. You gulped. Your head was pounding, but just a little bit. Nothing to worry about. You turned your head to look at Hank and Hannah. Your sister was right. He was a complete mess. "Sorry." He mumbled, probably because he stepped on her foot.

"You're doing well!" You lied. You couldn't stand seeing someone feel bad.

You started to spin Santana. Once, twice… and then your vision was getting blurred. "Okay, that's enough." You heard Santana say, but she seemed so distant. You wondered why. "You are going back to bed, right now. Hank, can you take her upstairs please?"

"I'm fine!"

"No, she's not." You felt someone grabbing you by the waist, and soon you were being lifted. "I'll make her some tea. Han, make sure she stays in bed."

"I will." You heard your sister saying, before you could protest. Hank was getting upstairs now, and it took a moment before you felt your body being carefully placed in your bed. Okay, maybe you weren't feeling that good. "Britt, you know we wouldn't have minded if you couldn't teach Hank 'coz you aren't feeling well, right?" You nodded, curling your body in a ball. "It's great that you have a cool girlfriend to take care of you. I feel better knowing that you aren't alone in New York."

"I have Quinn too." You mumbled, guilty taking over your body.

"Yeah, I know. But I mean, it's nice to have someone – I don't know Britt. I'm just glad you have her." Your sister lifted her hand, stroking your blonde hair. You sighed, crawling closer to her. "Speaking of her…"

"Good things, I hope." Santana joked, sitting by your side in bed. She leaned, kissing your forehead. "You got a fever, Britt. Come on, sit; I texted my mom to get her recipe for a tea – well, it's gonna make you feel better. Promise."

"I'll leave you two." Hannah whispered, squeezing your hand. You opened your eyes, watching her leave the room. Then, your attention returned to Santana.

"You texted your mom?" You asked shyly, and she nodded. "Y-you didn't have to. I'll be fine."

"I know you will. But still." She shrugged. "And I'm really sorry Britt, but I'll have to take your blankets."

"What? No!" You grabbed your blankets, pouting. "I'm really cold."

"In a house where the heat is on. I'm even wearing a tank top." She pointed, and you huffed before letting go of the blanket. "Don't be like that. I want you to be better for your sister's Bachelorette party tomorrow." You groaned. You had totally forgotten. "Come on, sit. Drink your tea and take your pills now and we can, I dunno, watch a movie, nap – whatever you wanna do, as long as we stay in this room."

"Okay." You mumble, sitting in bed. She sat closer to you, handing you a cup of tea. "It smells good."

"It is good." She promised, encouraging you to take a sip. And indeed it was. You took another sip, bigger this time. "Careful not to burn yourself, Britt." She said softly, her fingers resting on your back. "You look really tired. Did you sleep well?"

"I did." You shrugged, yawning. "And I think I'll take a nap." You shivered, still feeling cold. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. The pills will probably knock me off for a while."

"I could use a nap." She answered, her hand pressing on your hot skin. "And I'm keeping an eye on you, missy. Don't even try to get rid of me."

"I'm not." You replied, but she just smiled. "I'm cold."

"Come here." She took the mug from your hands and put it aside, opening her arms. Shyly, you crawled closer to her, snuggling on her. "Don't be like that. We've been sleeping exactly like this these past days." She giggled, lying with you. "I'm kind of a cuddler."

"Me too." You mumbled, snuggling closer to her. "You're warm."

"Because it's warm in here." She answered, giggling. "Let me know if you aren't feeling well, alright?"

You didn't answer. You were already asleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

It never occurred you that someone could be this comfy. You had no idea of how long you had been asleep, but it was probably for a while. Your body wasn't aching anymore; you were still a bit cold, but not freezing anymore. You did feel better, but Santana was probably right; you should stay the rest of the day in bed.

Speaking of her…

You opened your eyes, turning slightly around just to find out you were laying there. On her boobs. You had your head buried on her boobs. And she was just – awkwardly holding you there. You panicked. You tried to move, but she held you even closer. Fuck, you could barely breathe right now.

So you stood like that for like, five more minutes, until her grip on your body loosened, and you were able to move away from her boobs. You rolled to the other side of the bed, lying so you could look at her. Your face was burning; you weren't so sure if it was because you still had a fever or because you were embarrassed. Maybe both.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, yawning. She smiled weakly at you. "Hey blondie." She whispered, her voice raspy. "Feeling any better?"

"Y-yeah." You stuttered. She frowned, probably because your face was still red. She lifted her hand, pressing on your forehead. "I'm okay. Pinky promise."

"Alright, alright." She chuckled, stretching her arms. "Is it just me or is it a bit cold in here?" She mumbled, crawling closer to you. "Come on, keep me warm." You giggled, still blushing, but you opened your arms and she snuggled closer to you. "Tell me something."

"Like what?"

"Anything." She shrugged. "I just feel like talking to you."

"Uh, okay." You pressed your lips together, forming a thin line. "Did you know I took ballet classes for the first time when I was four?"

"No, but I imagined." You frowned, making her laugh. "Your mom showed me innumerous pictures of you dancing when you were little." You groan, frustrated. "Oh, come on. You looked really cute."

"Because it's not you."

"My mom once showed my entire baby's album to my ex-girlfriend, so I know the feeling." You giggled, running your hands through her arms. You wonder how sweet the little Santana should have been. "I guess my mom is the main reason why I'm single."

"Yeah, I think it's their main function: to make sure their kids remain single." You agree, and you feel her slowly move her hand to yours, squeezing it. Your heart skips a beat. "You said you wanted to talk earlier." You say after a while, almost immediately regretting your words, but her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

"Forget it. It was – uh, nothing important." You don't argue.

You spend a few moments in a comfortable silence. She kept running her cool fingers through your skin, and you stopped a moment, watching in silence the beautiful contrast both of your skins made together.

"How did your parents react when you came out?"

It comes out of nowhere. You are not even sure why you decided to ask, seriously. Maybe you still had a fever, and it was making you hallucinate. Or maybe you were just stupid. But she didn't seem to mind.

"My mom took it well. I guess she always knew." She shrugged. "My dad – well, he and my abuela didn't really like the idea of me dating girls. I mean, abuela took some time, but she kinda accepts me now. Doesn't love the idea, but – I don't know, I guess she got used to it." She moved a bit in your arms, her forehead pressing on your neck. "I haven't spoken to my dad in, like, eight years. I came out when I was sixteen, and he hasn't directed a word to me since then."

"I'm really sorry to hear that." You whisper, but she shakes her head.

"Don't be." She tells you, her voice confident, but her body a little stiff. "I'm glad he's out of my life. I already have to put up with one too many homophobes outside; I don't need one inside my home. And my mama deserves someone better too." Her voice crakes a bit, and you hear her sniffle very quietly. Almost immediately, you lift your hand to her hair, stroking it. You open your mouth to speak, but your mom enters the room before you could say a word.

"Excuse me girls." She says softly, entering with a tray. "I brought some snacks. You haven't eaten all day." You and Santana move away from the embrace, sitting on the bed. "Are you feeling any better sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm good mom." You assure her. "San said it would be better if I stayed in bed for the rest of the day."

"Thank god you have someone to tell you so." Your mom jokes, handing you the tray. "Thank you for watching her, Santana. You've been very lovely."

"It's no problem at all, Ms. Pie – Whitney." She says sweetly. "Someone has to keep an eye on this one." She leaned in, kissing your cheek. You smile, and your mom watches in awe.

"I'll leave you two. I'll call you when dinner is ready, okay?" You both nod, and she smiles. "Bye girls." She shuts the door, leaving the two of you.

"I was starting to get really hungry." You say, grabbing a pretzel. "Hey, can we watch a movie?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Somehow, you managed to convince Santana to watch The Fox and the Hound with you. She tried to pursue you to watch something else, literally anything, but you reminded her that you were the one who was sick and that she promised to do anything you wanted. So yeah, now you are both sitting and watching one of your favorite movies of all times.

"I can't believe I'm actually watching this." She grumbled, grabbing a pretzel. "I mean, I've never even heard of this movie."

"What the hell?" You widened your eyes. "What did you used to watch when you were little?"

"Uh, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty – I don't know, classics?"

"Princesses movies' don't really suit you." You say. "I mean, don't get me wrong; you just don't look like the type of kid who would believe on Prince Charming and else."

"I didn't." She says with a smirk. "I mean, I hated the princesses. I thought they were all too dumb, I mean, look at Snow White and Cinderella, and even Aurora – "

"Then why would you watch it?" You interrupt, suddenly confused.

She smiles. "I loved the villains. I mean, they had an attitude." You laugh, almost choking. "Don't laugh, I'm serious. But, to be fair, I did like Belle and Jasmine. And I thought Gaston was a huge asshole. Oh, and I loved 101 Dalmatians."

"You like dogs?" You ask, quirking a brow. She nods furiously, a small smile on her lips. "Then you are going to love this movie."

And you did know she'd never admit it, but she loved it. You knew it the moment she started crying.

"Oh, San." You cooed, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "Don't cry. I promise it'll get better in the end."

"B-but she had to leave the fox! A-and it's raining, a-and –" Okay, now she was actually sobbing. You wrapped both arms around her and she buried her head on your shoulder, tears soaking your shirt. "W-why did she do it? I-I mean, it was just a baby fox!" And that's exactly when you started crying too. And exactly when your mom got inside your room.

"Girls, dinner is – is everything okay?" She asks, seeming to be caught off guard.

"No, the fox was abandoned. And it made her sad." You answer, stroking Santana's hair. Your mom sighs in relief, smiling and nodding before leaving the room. Santana buries her nose on your shirt. "Oh sweetie." You cooed. "I promise it'll get better. Don't be upset." You wipe the tears that rolled down your cheek, before doing the same with hers.

"B-but that's real!" She sobbed, making you frown. "P-people are so m-mean with their pets, a-and t-they abandon them a-and they h-have to f-figure everything out by themselves – if they survive!" She cried even more. You decided to stop the movie.

"I didn't know you liked animals this much." You mutter, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Okay, look: we can go and have dinner, and then we will watch something else. I'll let you chose."

"Promise me?"

"Of course I do."

She nodded, her crying stopping slowly. You waited there with her until her tears ceased, your lips muttering soft words through her hair.

And you liked it.


	6. Day 5

**Day 5**

You just couldn't understand how the hell it was possible for a girl to know about half of Lima's female population and to manage to fit this amount of people in a strip club. But, god knows how, your sister managed to. Even your mom went to her Bachelorette Party. You were pretty sure moms didn't go to their child's Bachelorette Party. Especially to see their child get wasted while a strip gave her a lap dance. But whatever, your mom wasn't exactly one to keep sober.

So, now you and Santana were surrounded by a bunch of your sister's friends watching you and your "girlfriend" interacting in awe, even though you had no idea who half of them were. Santana didn't seem to mind. She was trying her best to keep a conversation with you and all of these crazy ladies and also trying to be nice to everyone, even though you were pretty sure she wanted to murder at least two of them who were already too drunk to even realize what they were asking her, and another one who asked you both how sex worked with girls. No, actually you were the one who wanted to kill this girl.

"So," Melissa, one of your sister's best friends, started. "How did you guys meet?"

And bang. You're dead. "Oh, I wanna hear that too!" Your sister yelled, coming closer from where you were both sitting. "I'm feeling like a horrible sister; I didn't even ask how you and my favorite sister-in-law met! Neither did you, mom!" Your mom shrugs, smiling and coming closer to you. Hannah was slightly tipsy.

"Uh, we, - uh –"

"We met at the coffee shop." Santana interrupts, squeezing your hand, and you stop talking, because you also want to know how you two met. "She came by one day, and I practically shoved my friend to the other side so I could take her order." Every single girl on that room started to awe at you. Even you had to control yourself not to. "She came by every day for almost two weeks. And she'd let the other clients go before her so I would be the one to take her order. And she was so sweet." She stopped for a moment, staring at you with a smile. You smiled back. "She'd sit at a table near the cash and keep looking at me. One day, my friend told me to go on a break and sit with her. So I did. And she asked me out the same day." Seriously though; they were practically drooling at you. "She'd take hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin every day."

"And she'd put extra marshmallows on my hot chocolate and wouldn't charge me." You completed, smiling at her. You loved this story. And, awkwardly, you started to wish it was real. "She once didn't sell my muffin to this old lady because she said it was already ordered by someone else. I was still waiting in line." She smiled widely, cupping your cheeks and pulling you close. And everyone cheered when she kissed you. Even you.

"Oh my god, you two are so sweet you're gonna give me diabetes!" Your sister slurred, pulling you both into a hug. "I said she's way better than that asshole Sam; I don't know what the hell Hank had in mind when he decided to invite him as the best man." Your heart sunk, and you know Santana noticed. She pressed her palm against your back, rubbing it softly.

"Don't." She said firmly, but so low that only you heard. "It's time to get over him."

"I can't." You whispered. She sighed, standing up and pressing her front to your back. You rested your head on her chest, allowing her to stroke your hair. "It's hard to let go."

"I'm here to help." She reminds you. "And I'll do whatever it takes."

"Thank you." You say, lifting your head to look at her. She smiles. "Let's get some drinks. I'm not gonna stand a drunk Sugar and a drunk Hannah sober."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You, Sugar, Santana and a girl you can't remember the name are sitting at the same table, close from the stage. The strippers haven't come yet, and you are not so sure about how long you have been waiting, because you took four, or maybe five shots, and you drank something you are not quite sure what it was, but it was like, so good and – well, you'd look at the time, but the pointers get a little bit confusing when you drink, so.

"I wanna see the hotties!" Sugar yelled, and everyone giggled. "Britt, put your girlfriend on that stage and make her strip for us!" Santana laughed, arms wrapping around your waist. She leaned, kissing your neck sloppily, probably because she also had six or – how much shots again? And these little colorful drinks she bought you, so she probably wasn't on her best as well. "Damn, where the hell do I get one like this?"

"Mine." You said, turning around. Santana smiled at you, staring at your lips for a brief second before leaning in and kissing you. You smiled; she wrapped her arms around your neck and you pulled her to your lap. You could hear a few women groaning at your make out session, but you didn't mind. Her tongue felt too good for you to care now.

"You're too damn good at this." She slurred on your ear. You smiled, capturing her lower lip between your teeth and biting it. She laughed, hand buried on your hair and her tongue inside your mouth once again.

You didn't even realize the stripers were already at the stage until Sugar started yelling nonstop like a crazy sex addict for a guy to take of his underwear. Santana gave you a wink, sitting on her chair once again. And you looked up to the stage, following everyone's eyes, just to find your mother and your sister sitting on a chair while two guys danced on their laps. And then it happened.

The strippers started to come down the stage. One of them came straight to you, dancing right in front of you with quite unusual moves with his pelvis. You tried to smile it off, especially because Sugar was practically begging to sit on your seat. You looked to your side, trying to ask Santana for help, but she wasn't there. In fact, you spotted her running awkwardly to the bathroom. You wondered if she had had one too many drinks.

So you got up, following her as fast as your drunken body allowed you to. You didn't want her to have to throw up all by herself. Wait, that sounded weird. You didn't want her to have to throw up and not have anyone there to take care of her. Like she took care of you yesterday. Yeah, that sounded better.

So you do find her in the bathroom, but she's not throwing up. She's crying. Actually, she's a crying mess. "San, what's up?" You asked, feeling a bit more sober. You tripped over your feet trying to reach for her. Yeah, definitely not sober. "Sanny, why are you so sad? I don't like it when you are sad." You pout, feeling tears starting to form on your eyes.

"Y-you are supposed to be my fake date!" She sobbed, pointing a finger at you. "M-my fake date! M-my f-fake girlfriend, mine!" She crossed her arms over her chest, sniffling. "A-and n-now y-you are f-faking cheating on me w-with that, that – that giant muscular thing!" You aren't sure how to respond. Because seriously, it's too funny and too cute. So you smile, taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around her.

"Oh honey," You coo. "You are the only fake girlfriend I want. You are the best."

"You think so?" She whispered, and you nodded.

"I know so." It takes her a moment until she melts on your hug, burying her face on your neck. "I promise I won't fake cheat on you, okay?" She nodded, her head resting on your chest. "You're way too cute when you are drunk, you know that?"

"I-I'm not drunk!" She fights, and you just nod in agreement. You allow yourself to hold her for a bit longer, because really? Why not? "I'll buy us drinks."

"I don't think that's a good-"

"Do you wanna go back to your new fake date?" She quirked a brow, and you gulped.

"Drinks. Let's get drinks."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You two get home first than everyone. And you are drunker than usually, because Santana kept buying you both drinks, and now you are not even realizing the major headache you are totally gonna have the next morning, because you two are giggling like idiots trying to get upstairs. She has both of her arms wrapped around you, and you don't complain, because it feels good to have someone like that again.

You manage to get inside your room without tripping and rolling downstairs, which would have sucked. "I need help!" You giggle, and she giggles too. You walk towards her, helping her out of her dress. And then you stop.

She's not wearing a bra. She's pretty much naked, apart from her panties, and oh gosh. Her body is just – she's just so fine. You try hard not to stare at her boobs, but it's impossible. They're just so – full.

You look up, meeting her eyes. They are darker than usual, staring at you. And then she's kissing you hard. Sloppily and hot. And you are totally not one to complain, because her mouth is so good.

She pushes you towards the bed, hurrying on taking off your dress. And, before you realize, your clothes are tossed on the floor carelessly, your bodies are pressed together, and she's sucking at your pulsing point, making you moan so loud. "S-Santana –"

"Shh." She hushes you, smiling against your skin. Her hands massage your breasts, making you moan. Yes, you were quite aware you looked like a horny teenager, but it's just – no one had touched you like that for months. "Come here." She leaned, her lips crashing on yours. It's not sloppy anymore; she seems suddenly more careful. Not just about kissing you, but about touching you. She's careful when she takes off your bra and your panties, she's careful when she kisses your breasts. And you just love it. Because, because – because she makes you feel loved.

"Oh god –" Your hand finds her hair and you pull it when she starts to suck on your nipple. You can feel her lips twisting into a smile. You feel ashamed. Because seriously, you are so not gonna last long. But she doesn't seem to notice, or to mind. She takes her time. She twists her tongue through your nipple, but not roughly, because she seems to notice your skin is sensitive. And she keeps touching you, running her fingers through your body as if she could trace a pattern. And when she pulls your nipple between her teeth, your back arches, and you release a loud moan.

"Am I that good?" She asks playfully, crawling until your noses are bumping. Her voice is a bit slurred, but you don't mind. She kisses you again, and you are thankful for that, because you were craving for more. "Sit." She demands, and you do as you are told, because you are not one to mess this up. "I see the way you look at me." She strokes your scalp, her lips close from yours. "You can touch me." And then your mouths are together once again, and you can't help but think this is where they should always be.

Your hands cup her breasts, squeezing it and making her moan against your mouth. You almost come just then. And you just – you're pushing her down, sucking at her neck. You want to make a mark, you just have to. Although her skin is much tanner than yours, and you are probably gonna end up with tons of bruises tomorrow, you have to try. And she doesn't seem to mind; being trapped under your body and moaning something you can't quite understand. Until.

Until she starts making circles on your clit with her thumb. You gasp, eyes widening as a wave of pleasure invades you. And, once again, you are the one laying on the bed, trapped under her body. And she's a tease. Because she just – you need more. And you beg for it, though you can't really know if she got what you said, because your voice is all messy like hers. "Tell me," she whispers, her other hand stroking your hair. "Who do you want? Who do you need?" And you don't quite understand, because she's sounding a little nervous, but so, so serious. "Sam or me?" You groan when she runs her nails through your skin. "I need you to tell me."

"You." You answer, as coherent as you can. "I want you. I need you." She places a kiss to your lips, before entering you with a finger. And it's just – your body jolts with all the sensations coming all at once. She moves slowly, eyes glued to your face. "I-I need m-m-more." You stutter, and she adds another finger. You moan so loudly you are glad no one is home, because you are sure you'd wake all of your family up. And thankfully, she's moving faster and back at working her tongue and teeth on your neck. You want this to last longer, you want to keep feeling like this. But you can't. You come hard, so hard you almost pass out. And you can't remember the last time you felt like this, probably because no one ever made you feel like this.

You know she's watching. She pulls strands of blonde hair away from your sweaty face before lying by your side, silently. You take a moment, trying to catch your breath. And when you do, you feel bad. It doesn't feel right. You are not sure if it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just your conscience, or maybe you are just being silly, but the fact is you are crying. Really hard. And then she's moving, pulling you to her chest and holding you tight. You cry; your nose pressed to her neck, her mouth mumbling soft words. And you cry, until you stop. Your sobs simply cease, and tears stop rolling down your cheeks.

"It's okay." She whispers, and you nod, kissing her neck and snuggling to her body. She strokes your hair, not saying another word. Because.

Because maybe she's right and you are wrong. Maybe it is okay to have a one night stand, because, why not? And, as she kisses your hair, you can't stop yourself from thinking that she's right. You are where you are supposed to be, with someone willing to love you for one night. And it's alright.

You fall asleep in her arms to a dreamless sleep.


	7. Day 6

**Day 6**

Your head is pounding. Actually, your whole body hurts like a bitch, but your head – damn, it looks like you've been trampled by a herd of elephants. And it's really cold inside your room, so you pull your covers up to your chin. You can feel the light practically burning you, but you don't wanna open your eyes and you want even less to get up to close your curtains. Maybe if Santana was awake –

Oh.

The memories of how she kissed you, how she marked you, came straight to your mind. Your fingers ran through your sensitive skin, trying to figure without looking where your skin was bruised. And just then, the memory of how you cried in her arms strikes you, making your head hurt even more. Fuck.

You dare to open your eyes, and she's there. Big brown eyes staring at you, lips parted. You don't move, you don't speak. You two just stare at each other, in absolute silence.

"It's early." She mumbles. She lifts her hand, stroking your scalp. "Go back to sleep."

You close your eyes, shifting just a little bit closer before doing as you are told.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

When you wake up again, you are all alone. You look around the room, trying to find any sign of Santana. Her things are still there. Her dress, and yours, from last night are carefully folded on top of your desk. And you noticed she closed the curtains. You smile a little bit at that.

Your head still aches, but not as bad as it was. So you shift your body, looking for your phone. It's past midday, but you don't really care. You doubt your mom and your sister would be awake at this time, considering the amount of drinks they had, and your dad was at work. So you just pulled the covers around your body, allowing yourself to close your eyes for a little bit longer. Maybe your headache would pass.

But then a smell of food invaded your room, forcing you to open your eyes. Bacon! You sat in bed, grabbing the sheets and covering your body with them. A brief second later, Santana comes in, holding a tray with food and two glasses of orange juice. She seems caught a little bit off guard by seeing you. "You are awake."

"I am." You answer, eyes still glued at the tray. And then you stop for a second, looking at her. And you notice. She's wearing your shirt. Your Ravenclaw's favorite shirt. And it suit's her, better than it suits you. "You look – fine."

"Thanks?" She quirked a brow, putting the tray aside on your desk. "I borrowed a shirt. I have no idea where I put my PJ's. Sorry."

"It's fine." You mumble. "You look good on my shirt."

And then, silence. You can feel her eyes at you, but you don't look at her. You don't dare to. And then she sighs; she moves from the desk to the bed, sitting by your side. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks you, and you look at her for a moment. "Because if you don't, we don't have to. It's okay." She squeezed your thigh, staring at you. "We can call it a one night stand. A mistake. A drunken act. Whatever you want, I'll be fine."

You press your lips together, clutching tighter at the sheets. "What if I don't like any of these options?" You ask in such a low tune you barely heard your own voice.

Santana stroked your hair, leaning to press a kiss to your face. "Then we will wait for you to figure it out." You nod, leaning in her direction. She takes the hint, allowing you to snuggle with her. "Did you know you talk when you sleep? Like, a lot. And you answer when I speak to you."

"I don't!" You giggled, humoring a little bit with her comment.

"Yes, you do." She smiled, hands running through your skin. "We had a really interesting debate about dolphins being gay sharks." You laughed, burying your face on your hands.

"Have you been watching me sleep?" You joked, poking her ribs. "Weirdo."

"I'm not a weirdo. I wasn't tired." She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Your mom made us breakfast by the way. And she sent some aspirin." She broke the contact, getting up to get the tray. You sat in bed excitedly, and she handed you the painkiller before setting the tray between you two. "You looked awful this morning. Sorry."

"I normally do." You shrugged, looking at the food. And then you just knew.

Your mom hadn't made this. Your mom was probably still asleep, locked in her room. Your fruits were cut in shapes, and your bacon and eggs formed a smiley face on the plate. Your mom never did these things. Santana, on the other hand, did. "You don't."

"Huh?"

"You don't normally look awful in the morning." She repeated. "You look beautiful."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You fell asleep again, but this time she's there. Her head on the crook of your neck, her arms wrapped around your bare waist. You wonder why you didn't even put a shirt on. Because it's a little bit intimidating for you to be like that in bed with someone who's already dressed. You don't really know how to explain, it just is.

It's past 2 p.m. now. You should get up. You should take a shower. But. But she's so – you turn around as quietly as you can, facing her. She hasn't let go of you, and, as you move, she moves too, even closer. And you let her, because. You don't know why, but you know you want her there. With you. Parted lips and warm breath on your neck. You stroke her hair, and she lets out a funny sound, but doesn't wake up. And you smile. Because maybe she's right again. Maybe she's the perfect person to help you move on.

But it's too bad, because you don't share the same concept of moving on.

You watch her sleeping for god knows how long. She looks so peaceful in her sleep you can't wake her up. So you let her do it herself.

She cracks an eye open, before yawning and staring lazily at you. "Morning sleepyhead." You whisper, and she hums something before closing her eyes again. "I'm taking a shower. You can wait here if you want; my mom and Hannah probably aren't a good company right now." She nods, letting go of your waist.

You get up, very aware that there were no clothes at all, and even more aware that she was staring at you. Blushing, you walk to your closet, grabbing the first shirt you could find. And when you turned around, she was still shamelessly staring, her eyes practically fucking you. "Do we have anything planned for today?" She asks, still staring.

"N-no." You stutter. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." She shrugs, sitting in bed. "Okay, come here." She pats the empty space, running her fingers through her messy hair. You go, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You are being weird with me. I don't want you to be weird with me. Just – no, don't sit so far. I don't bite."

"You did last night." You mumbled, making her bark a laugh. Even you smiled a little. She pulled you by the waist, making you sit closer.

"See? Much better." She giggled. "Look, we're friends and I really like being around you. I don't want our friendship to get all messed up." You nod, still not looking at her. "You are a grown up now, Britt. I mean, we're twenty-five, almost twenty-six. You are allowed to have sex when you feel like. We are not teens anymore; it doesn't have to be that entire huge thing, with roses and whatever. I'm just saying. And besides, you are my girlfriend for the week. You are allowed to sleep with me." She smiles, kissing your neck. And it hurts a little bit, even though it shouldn't. But maybe – "I'm not saying I'm a sex toy, or a prostitute, or – well, I'm just saying that it's okay. If you want me." Her lips are pressing on your scalp, her breath warm on your skin. "I promised I'd do anything to help you move on. I meant it. Because – I'm not gonna lie. I want you. A lot."

You turn your face slightly. She's staring at you. At your lips, to be more precise. And – well, why not?

You cup her cheeks with both hands before pushing her back to bed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

It's 6 p.m. when you are finally showered and both out of the bedroom. Santana is holding your hand, and you both are laughing at a joke you made when you get downstairs. Hannah is sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea. Your mom doesn't look much better than her, cooking dinner for you all. "Well, look who decided to show up." Hannah mocks with a grin. "Did you have fun today? And last night?" Her smirk makes you blush so hard that you want to hide your face on Santana's neck and never get out. Maybe you were a bit louder than you intended to be.

"Are you jealous?" Santana shots back playfully, wrapping an arm around you. Hannah rolls her eyes, smiling. You take a seat, and she does the same. "Do you need help, Whitney?" Santana asks, but your mom shakes her head.

"No, sweetie. I'm sure you both are very tired from your exercise" You groan, covering your face as your mom and sister laugh. Santana just smiles, her hand stroking your back. You peek at her, just in time to see her leaning to kiss your face. "Hannah, is Hank coming over for dinner?"

"Yeah, he said he'd be here in five." Your sister answered, yawning. Someone presses the doorbell. "Or now." She gets up, stretching her back as she walks to the living room to open the door. You turn around to Santana, who's playing with your hair again, something she seemed much pleasured to do during this week. And she smiles at you. No, she smirks at you. And you don't have to read her mind to know what she's thinking of.

"Quit smiling at me like that, weirdo." You say, poking her ribs.

"You know, there's a bruise on your neck you forgot to cover." She whispers, as if telling you a huge secret. "I wonder how it got there."

"Shut up, dumbass."

"Britt, can we have a word for a sec? Hey Santana. Hey Aunt W." Sugar calls, showing up at the door. You quirk a brow but nods, getting on your feet and walking towards her. She takes you upstairs, which makes you groan, because you hate getting upstairs, or actually walking at all, after you had a whole night of drinking and mind-blowing sex with a hot girl three times. But Sugar doesn't seem to care about your laziness, because she drags you to your room, shutting the door. "What happened with you two?"

"Huh?" You frown, sitting on her bed. "Hi to you too. Didn't know you were coming over."

"Hannah texted me." She shrugs. "But this is about Santana and you, B. I saw her leaving yesterday, and then you just – disappeared. And today you spent the whole day locked in your room, and I'm just – are you okay? Hannah told me you haven't even showed up for lunch." She bits her lower lip, and you can't help but find adorable that your cousin is worried about you.

"We are fine, Sug." You smile. "San just gets a bit – emotional when she drinks. She was upset because that striper was dancing for me, so I went after her. We ended up drinking a little more in the bar, sorry."

Your cousin waits a bit, as if trying to tell if what you were saying was the truth. "Okay. So you two spent the whole afternoon fucking in your room?"

"Sugar!"

"I'll take that as a yes." You blush harder, making her smirk. But then her face turns serious. "So, you two are alright?"

"Yeah, we are fine."

"Great." She sighs. "Because Sam is here."

"What?"

"I swear we didn't know!" She raises her hands in defeat. "You know Hannah would never do that to you. Hank is just – I promise I'll kick his ass later. But Ken is staying over for dinner." Your shoulders drop in defeat, and you pout. "Oh honey, don't be like that. You'll have me and Santana to keep you company."

"I don't want him here." You mumble. "And he must be near Santana right now; I don't want him near her."

"She's a tough cookie; I'm sure she can kick his ass if she has to."

"Still." You cross your arms over your chest, pouting even harder.

Sugar smiles; she sits a bit closer, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. "You really like her, don't you?"

"What makes you say so?" You mutter, and she laughs.

"Oh, please Britt! You are all overprotective around her. You smile every time she comes around, every time she kisses you. It's hard not to notice." You sigh, and before you can stop it, tears roll down your cheeks. "Oh, don't cry baby. It's okay."

"I think I like her." You whisper, as if it were a secret. "I shouldn't."

"I'm confused." Your cousin frowns. "You shouldn't like your own girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Sugar." You blurt out. "She's one of Quinn's friends; she's just here because I didn't want to show up alone." Sugar's eyes widen, her mouth drops. "But she's just – she's so sweet and nice with me all the time, and she's beautiful, and we slept together, and I don't know what else to do with my life, because – I think I really like her, Sug. P-please don't be mad at me for lying."

"I'm not mad." She assured you, sighing. "I'm confused. But not mad." You nodded, sniffling. "So you are not the perfect couple."

"I wish." You mumble. She hums something, nodding. "I shouldn't have slept with her. Things are just so confusing right now."

"We'll figure this out." She promised, patting your back. "You'll figure this out."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Dinner was – weird. Not just because he was there, but because Sugar kept staring at you like a psycho and Hannah was barely speaking with Hank. Santana, on the other hand, kept a lively conversation with your parents, often turning to you to ask questions. And you tried to answer, but you knew how your voice sounded. And you knew what she was thinking.

"Baby." She giggled, grabbing a napkin. "You have sauce all over your face." Your face turned red as she wiped it clean. She then approached you, stroking your cheek. "Don't let him make you feel like crap." She whispered.

"It's not that." You whispered back. She frowned, but nodded in understanding, kissing your chin. And you smiled a bit at that, because well, could you not?

But then Hank had the brilliant idea to invite you all to watch a movie, and if you weren't considering killing him then, now was a different story. You sat on the floor by Santana's side. Sugar tried to sit on your other side, but Sam was quicker, making your cousin huff and take a seat at the couch. "Hi." He said, showing his white teeth in a giant smile.

"Hey Sam." Santana was quicker, wrapping an arm around your waist and smiling at him. You could hear his teeth gritting. She lifted her hand pressing it to your chin and making you turn your face to her. "You have a gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy and sweet woman by your side. You don't need him." She whispered, and you giggled.

"And a very humble one too." You added, making her quirk a brow.

"Just being realistic. Any objections?" You shook your head, a smile still playing on your lips. "Thought so. Kiss me."

"What?"

"If I kiss you, it'll seem I'm jealous and that I'm not confident at all and it will make him think he stands a chance." She explained, only loud enough for you to hear it. "If you kiss me right now, it'll show you don't give a shit if he's right by your side, because, like I said before, you don't need –" You don't let her finish. You shut her mouth with your lips, pulling her closer gently by her chin. She seems surprised, but only takes a moment before she's kissing you back. "Baby, not now." She giggles, pushing you slightly, but then turning back to kiss your cheek. And to whisper "You are getting good at it."

And then she's lying on the floor, pulling you along. You let her rest her head on your stomach, arms wrapped around you. And he's staring angrily. But you don't look at him. You just stroke your fake girlfriend's scalp, enjoying the feeling of someone cuddling awkwardly with you. And you also know your sister is talking to Hank again now, and that Sugar is quirking a brow at you, but you honestly don't give a fuck. Because there's a gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy and sweet woman lying on your stomach.

And all you can worry about right now is that you need more than ten days with her.


	8. Day 7

**A/N: Guys! Thanks for the reviews, you've all been really sweet! And don't worry, I think everything is gonna end well. Can't promise though :)**

 **Xoxo**

 **Jout Jout**

* * *

 **Day 7**

"And how did she react?" Santana asked, leaning in to grab an apple.

"She was a bit confused." You shrug. "I mean, she said she needed a moment to think about it all." She nodded, leaning on the counter. "Do you think it was a bad idea telling her?" The brunette bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment.

"Well, it wasn't your greatest idea." She admits, making you groan. "But it wasn't all that bad. I mean, it'll be good to have some back up other than Holly if we need to." She handed you her apple, and you bit it. "Where's your family?"

"Mom's out with Hannah to get her dress adjusted. There was a problem with the measurements or something." You answer, taking another bite of her apple. She nodded with a smirk, taking a step closer to you and grabbing her apple back. "Hey! I was eating that."

"I'm gonna take a shower." She said, ignoring your comment. "Join me?" You gulped, eyes getting widened. "Because seriously, I've been sexually frustrated since I woke up. I mean," She gestured to your outfit. A tank that was maybe a little too short to you and your PJ's shorts. "it's not like it's actually my fault."

"I've never had sex in the shower." You blurt out, feeling your face getting warm. She frowned for a brief second, but then her smile was back to her lips. Just sweeter this time.

"Alright then. We'll just shower." She offered, winking. "If you want to join me you are more than welcomed."

It took you two minutes to run upstairs straight to the shower.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She meant it when she said you'd just shower. She watched you carefully stripping your clothes off, but didn't make a move. Even though you could feel her eyes burning your ass.

"This is actually very nice." You hummed while she washed your hair. "I mean, it saves water."

"You'd never showered with anyone?" She asked, kissing your neck softly. You shivered, shaking your head. "Well, it's nice. I mean, a bath is even nicer, but shower is great too." She shrugged. "Britt, lower a little." She said, and you giggled. "Don't mock me. Not everyone has the advantage to be as tall as you."

"I wouldn't call that an advantage." You answered, allowing her to pull you down the water. "I mean, I always hit my head everywhere. Always." It was her turn to giggle then. "And plus, when I was little, I'd always have to sit in the back in class, 'cause everyone was shorter than me."

"Oh, poor you." She cooed, hugging you from behind. Her breast pressed against your back, and you could feel her nipples. Okay, now you were the one sexually frustrated. "It must have been very hard. All of these jokes. Like, how's the weather up there? I mean, this one was definitely the worst." You nodded in agreement, and she rested her chin on your shoulder. "You're getting a little red. Like, everywhere. Please, don't tell me you've got another fever."

"N-no, I'm all good." You promised, turning around. Shit. Not your brightest idea. Because seriously, getting a vision of Santana naked was already a turn on. Santana naked in the shower was ten times better. "You're hot." You say before you can keep your mouth shut.

"You've never looked in the mirror, have you?" She smirked, lifting your chin slightly. "My eyes are up here, Britty." It made your face burn even more, and it made her laugh. "Come with me to the bedroom."

"No."

"W-what?" Her chin dropped. "I-I mean, why not?"

"I want you here." You took a step closer, grabbing her ass. "Now."

And then your body was being pressed against the wall, her mouth already sulking on your neck. And you smiled, because really, she didn't have to do all that. You were already so wet you could come by doing just that. "Wait. Can I ask you something?" She said, stopping suddenly.

"Now?" You groaned, and she nodded with a smile. "Yeah, fine."

"Has anyone ever eaten you out?"

You stopped, biting your lip. "N-no."

"Seriously?" She quirked a brow. "You dated with Vagina Lips for two years and he's never –"

"God, quit talking!" You groaned, grabbing her hand and placing it on top of your wet sex. "This is the only vagina you should be worrying about right now."

"This is a very awkward thing to say."

"If you don't touch me right now I'm kicking you out of this bathroom and finishing it myself." You threatened, and it was enough for her to pump a finger in and out you. You moaned, and it made her smile. She added another finger, shutting your moans with a kiss. "Fuck."

"You're getting a potty mouth." She said, moving faster inside you. And it was pretty embarrassing how you didn't even last three minutes before coming hard on her fingers. You'd normally care about it, but since you were too busy watching Santana taking her fingers to her lips and licking it, you – god, you almost came all over again. She leaned in, kissing you. And you tasted yourself on her tongue. "Is sex in the shower a yes or a no?" She asked, smiling crookedly at you.

"You are definitely a yes." You panted, making her laugh.

"We should try a bath sometime." She said, turning off the shower. "Come on, B. You have dance classes today."

You followed her out of the shower, allowing her to dry you. And you did the same to her, and it was all nice and well until you opened the bathroom door and your sister was on the other side.

"I'm never showering here again."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You spent most of your day teaching Hank how to dance, but at least now you know he's not gonna be a total disaster. And he thanked you for like, a thousand times, even offered to pay, but you assured him the same amount of times it was not necessary. Having Hannah happy on her day was enough for you.

"Okay." Santana hummed, her hand holding yours. "Sex in the car?"

"No."

"Kitchen?"

"No."

"Wha – okay. Bathroom? Yes, with me. I mean, like in a public place."

"No."

"Couch?"

"Yes."

"I'm not counting. It's boring." You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Floor?"

"No."

"Pool?"

"No."

"Seriously? What are you doing with your sex life?" She joked, making you blush a little. "Okay. Any sex toys?"

"Not really."

"Okay, I give up." She says, dramatically throwing her hands to the air. "We have still a few days to try something new. Anything special?"

"Are we seriously having this conversation in the middle of the street?" You scoffed, and she laughed. You two walked across a park, and a yellow, fluffy puppy came running happily towards you.

"Oh Britt! Look at him!" Santana said with a huge smile on her lips, kneeling down to play with a Golden Retriever's puppy. "Isn't he a cutie?" You smiled, nodding and kneeling down to play with the fluffy dog too. "God, I'm gonna buy a house someday and have like, tons of dogs."

"Aren't cats the lesbians' animals?" You asked confused, but she just laughed. "I'm pretty sure I read about it somewhere."

"I like dogs better." She shrugged, stroking the puppy's ears. "I wish I had a dog though. A small one, so it could fit on my apartment."

"Well, why don't you get one?" You asked.

"I dunno." She answered, slowly getting on her feet. You did the same. "I guess I could get one. And name him Dobby."

"Don't tell me you like Harry Potter too." You squeal, almost too excited. She grins, nodding before holding your hand again. "Oh, okay. We have so much to discuss. Okay, like, who's your favorite character? Which one is your house? Which book do you like best? Wha –"

"Okay, slow down." She laughed. "Okay, let me see. I really like Luna, my house is Slytherin, my favorite book is –"

"Wait, what?"

"What?" She frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Why Slytherin?" You asked, guiding her through the street. "I mean, you can be a little mean sometimes, but it's not like you deserve to be at Slytherin. I mean, just no."

"I can be a big bitch sometimes, Britt." She said, squeezing your hand. "I mean, remember that old lady at the plane? I almost went all Lima Heights on her, but you told me not to. And I threw a ball at Ken's nose, and I also –"

"No, stop." You interrupted her. "You only were a bitch to them because they were being bitchy with us. They are the real bitches." She smiled softly, and for a second you thought you saw a slight blush covering her cheeks. "And, I mean, you came all the way here to be my fake girl for over a week, even though you didn't know me. You flew on a plane to help a stranger, even though you are scared of planes. And you are always worrying about me, and you are really nice all the time with my family and friends. You took me out to ice cream because I was sad, and you had mind-blowing sex with me just because you wanted me to feel good with myself again." You reminded her, squeezing her hand. "You are kind and brave. I think Gryffindor suits you better."

You don't stop walking, but you can see she's slowly digesting all you said. And then she leans onto your shoulder, kissing it and stopping in the middle of the street. "This is the sweetest, nerdiest thing anyone has ever said to me." You smile, lowering her arms to her waist. "Thank you, Brittany. Seriously." You nod, pressing your lips to her forehead. You know she closed her eyes. But she's not done talking. "I didn't have sex with you because I pitied you. Don't ever think of it that way again." She sighed, looking down for a second before looking back at you. "I had sex with you because you are beautiful. Because I like being around you. And because – because you deserve to be treated well. You deserve to know you are beautiful, hot, funny, apparently a math-genius, and, and – you deserve to feel good to yourself because –" She took a deep breath. "Because if you feel good to yourself, you won't let any other asshole bring you down again. I just – I want you to know you are so much better than you think you are. I need you to see so."

You smiled at her. A tear threatened to fall from your eye, but you didn't let it. "I think we both need to learn to see so."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, I take things are going well between you two?" Sugar asked, resting her legs lazily on top of your thighs. "I mean, I'm not getting inside that bathroom ever again –"

"How the hell do you even know that?" You hissed, making her laugh.

"Hannah has a phone." She reminded you. "But seriously. How did she react?"

"Fine, I guess. She said it was my call." You answered, looking at the kitchen where Santana and Holly were making something for you to eat.

"No, I mean about the liking part." You pressed your lips together, making Sugar groan. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

You didn't answer. You saw Santana approaching with a small smile on her lips, sitting right behind you. You smiled back, dumbly. She pressed her lips to your neck before wrapping her arms around your waist. "What are you two talking about?"

"You know you don't have to play pretend anymore around me, right?" Sugar asked, and Santana quirked a brow.

"What do you mean by 'play pretend'?" Santana asked. Then, she turned to you. "Baby, what is she talking about?"

"What is she talking about?" Sugar hissed, but Santana just laughed, letting go of your waist.

"I'm messing with you." She giggled. "I just came to ask if you wanted coffee or tea."

"Coffee." You and Sugar answered. Santana nodded, smiling and walking back to the kitchen.

"Okay." Sugar sighed. "There's something you aren't telling me about." You bated your lower lip, looking away. "Look, if you want me to help, you've gotta tell me everything. Even the sordid details. No, forget it. I don't wanna hear about how you fuck each other's brains off –"

"Sugar!"

" – But I do wanna hear the rest." She finished, ignoring you. "I'm your friend after all. You know I'm here, right?" She sat straight on the couch, giving your shoulder a squeeze. You nodded silently, still not looking at her. "Well?"

"We kinda had an agreement." You explain, feeling your face warming up. She gestured for you to keep talking. "Okay, in this 'agreement', we decided we could act as girlfriends and do girlfriends' things – when we are alone." Sugar's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but you didn't let her. "It's okay! It's not like we're sex maniacs or something."

"Well, it sure sounds a lot like it!" Sugar hissed. "Brittany, I'll say it only once. Not cool to keep screwing around with a person you may or may not have feelings for!"

"You make it sound horrible."

"Because it does!"

You pout. She sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "She said she's not having sex with me because she pities me." You whispered. "Or because she's using me. She told me she likes being around me. And that I deserve to be treated well." Sugar's eyes softened, and she nodded in understanding. "And she was really nice and sweet with me, and now I don't know what to think anymore." You groaned, frustrated. "She just keeps making me so confused, Sug."

"You'll figure it all out." Your cousin promised, smiling.

"When?"

"You already are."


	9. Day 8

**Day 8**

Waking up in Santana's arms had become your favorite thing this past week. But you loved it when she was still lying in bed, half-asleep with messy hair all over her face. Not when she was on top of you, practically shaking you awake. "Oh thank god. I thought you were dead." She sighed, smiling crookedly.

"I wish." You grumbled, getting free of her embrace and turning around in bed, your face buried on your pillow. She giggled, lying on your back and pressing kisses to your neck. And you hummed in pleasure, until she started tickling your hips. "S-stop!" You laughed, trying to push her away. "N-not fair!" She giggled, one hand keeping your arms up and the other tickling you. "S-San!"

"I'll stop, but you have to get up." She said, leaning to kiss you. Then, her face suddenly turned serious. "Your sister is having an emotional crisis and no one can deal with her. She just said she's calling off the wedding." You immediately sat on bed, almost making Santana fall. "Easy, Britt."

"The hell she's canceling the wedding." You huffed. "I didn't teach a monkey how to dance, found a perfect fake girlfriend, took my entire license from work for a whole year to watch her calling off the wedding."

"Hank is a terrible dancer, but I don't think he'd be very pleased if you called him a monkey, B."

"Fuck him!" You tossed your pajamas to the floor, grabbing some clean clothes. "Well, someone is getting married. And it better be her." You were about to leave the room, but Santana held your arm, stopping you. "What? San, I have business to take care of! You and I took all of our vaca – wait, I didn't even ask!" You smacked your face, groaning. "How did you handle it? I mean, did you have any problems? I can speak with your boss if you want."

"No, please don't. That bitch would skin you alive." She joked. Or at least you thought she was joking. "Don't worry about my job. Sue owed me a few favors; I managed to get a few days off." She shrugged, pushing you back to bed. "Your hair is a mess. A hot one, though." She winked at you, taking your brush. "Can I?" You nodded, making her smile.

Santana brushed your longs locks, often pressing her lips to your skin, making you shiver. "Stop it." You mumbled, but she just smiled, kissing your temple. "I gotta go talk to Hannah. I don't – we don't have time for that now." She laughed, running her fingers through your hair. You turned your face slightly, giving her a chance to kiss you. She did.

"So, later we might have some time?" She asked, her lips still close to yours. You nodded, kissing her. "You are so good at that Britt-Britt." You didn't respond, just turned around before she could make another move. "By the way, I did some research on Google, and there's somewhere I'm taking you today. Do you think your mom would borrow us her car?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" She just smirked, getting on her feet. "Santana, where are we going?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't come." She answered, turning to the mirror in your closet and fixing her own hair.

"Are you murdering me or something?" She barked a laugh, shaking her head.

"I'd never murder you, silly. Don't worry about it." She promised, winking at you. "Now go. I chose a very nice dress, and I look smokin' on it. Make sure I'll wear it." You nodded, getting up. "Oh, hey Britt?"

"Yeah?" You turned around, stopping at the door.

"Do you really think I'm perfect?" She smirked, making your face so red you probably looked like a giant tomato.

"Shut up." You mumbled, and she just laughed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You didn't even knock, because you knew Hannah wouldn't answer it. So you chose to just get in, shutting the door silently behind you. Your little sister was lying on her bed, covers pulled to her head, as if she wanted to hide. You walked towards her, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Hi, Hannah Banana." You whispered, lying by her side. "Tough morning?"

"I'm can't marry him." She sniffled, her head poking out of the covers. "Britt, w-what if he's not the right guy for me? I-I mean, we'd be stuck with each other for so long and – I don't wanna miss this time of my life." Her eyes were red and puffy, her voice was cracking.

"What are you talking about, Han?" You asked, frowning. "You guys are like, the sweetest couple ever! I mean, everyone is always babbling in my ears about how cute you two are together." Your sister huffed, burying her face on her pillow. "And besides, you are just twenty-three. You'll never know if he's the right guy unless you try." She's still not looking at you. "Han, I know he screws up sometimes. But he loves you. I know relationships can be tough sometimes, but you've gotta try. You can't just – you can't give up."

"It's easy for you to say." She mumbled. "You have the perfect girlfriend right by your side. You have the perfect relationship, the perfect love life. We don't, Britt." You stop for a moment. You want to laugh, because seriously? Your life is so screwed up right now you don't even care.

But Hannah doesn't know so. And you stop. Because you want to tell her. But you can't. Because – because she needs to believe in love. "No, I don't." You say, and she peeks at you curiously. "Santana is not perfect. She's far from being perfect. And so am I." You smile, looking down to your lap. "She's moody in the mornings, and she can be incredibly lazy sometimes. She doesn't really like to talk about her feelings, and we have a really hard time with that sometimes. Because it's confusing, you know? I can't always tell what she's feeling." She's staring at you, and she's stopped crying. "And I am clumsy, distracted, a little childish, a terrible cooker," Hannah actually laughs at that. "and so many more things, Han. But you know what? We're learning." You take a deep breath, because. Because you know it is all true. You know it is. Just not in the way you wanted to be. "She's teaching me how to cook. She protects me when she knows people are being mean. She even watches Disney's movies with me." You smile, almost shyly. "And I don't bother her when she's moody. I stay in bed with her when she's lazy sometimes. And I'm helping her to express her feelings. And it's working, you know? We were at the park yesterday, and she got me a flower. She told me I was pretty. And I made her breakfast the other day." You smiled, suddenly feeling proud of your pancakes that didn't burn. "And that's why we try so hard. Because we are worth it. And you and Hank are too. You just need to see it."

She wiped a tear, offering you a small smile. "I'll call Hank." You shuffled closer to her, snuggling with your baby sister. "I guess I don't really see your flaws because I wanted you to be the perfect couple, you know?" Your sister mumbled, sniffling. "The one I'd always look up to. But maybe there isn't such a thing as perfect couples."

"Yeah." You whispered, a lump in your throat. "Maybe."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you seriously not gonna tell me where I'm driving us?" You huffed, but she just smiled. "San!"

"Turn left." She guided. "We are almost there, Britt." She said, grabbing a handful of Doritos and taking one to your mouth. You groaned, but she just stuffed your mouth with more Doritos. "Keep your mouth busy, chipmunk."

"Chipmunk?" You quirked a brow, speaking with your mouth full.

"You look like a chipmunk when you have your mouth stuffed like that." She pointed out, shrugging. "It's cute." Your cheeks flushed, and you are pretty sure it made her smile. "Okay. We can park now."

"Finally." You grumbled, doing as she told. You stopped the car, practically jumping out of it. Santana laughed of your excitement, holding your hand and pulling you towards this small shop. It was quite tawdry actually. It had this big neon sign, these sexy lingerie and the mannequins were all in weird positions. It made you almost laugh, because it just looked a lot like – "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not coming inside a sex shop!"

"Kay, calm down." She smiled, holding both of your arms. "We don't have to buy anything. We'll just take a look."

"No. You can take a look. I'll wait in the car."

"Hold on Britt." She grabbed your wrist, but not in a way that would hurt you. You stopped, turning around to face her. "I just want us to do something new, okay? I mean, I think it's time for you to try new things. But I'm not gonna force you or anything. We'll just look; if you like anything, we'll take it. If you don't, we can go home and do, I don't know, whatever we feel like. And we don't have to talk about it, okay?" You bate your lower lip, and she took a step closer. "You can trust me. Even if you like something, we buy it and you don't wanna do it anymore later, I'm not gonna force you. I'd never do so, you know that, right?"

You gulped. "Yeah, I do." You whispered, holding her hand again. She smiled, leading you inside the store.

It was a little intimidating to be inside a sex shop. First of all, the cashier was a girl at least five years younger than you, who didn't seem really happy to see costumers. You could be wrong, but judging by the way she huffed and rolled her eyes when you both got in, you weren't so sure if she was into people at all. But it wasn't just her. It was the shop in itself. It was all bright red inside, with dildos and straps-on hanging on walls as if it was a normal thing. And then there were all of these sexy lingerie that you kept picturing Santana in, but you decided she looked better with no clothes at all. And finally, there was this creepy mannequin with something you couldn't really figure what it was in its mouth, but it had the shape of a ball and it probably was used as a gag or something. The mannequin also had handcuffs, and there was this other mannequin behind it with a whip in its hands. You poked Santana, pointing with your chin to them, but she just quirked a brow and shook her head, smiling at you. Yeah, that was definitely a no.

"Do you need any information about these toys?" Santana asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Do you have plenty information about these?" You gasped, and she just smiled. "Okay, gross."

"I've tried a few toys; I'm not a sex addict." She promised with a laugh. "Besides, I thought we had agreed it's good to try new things. And that my sex life is better than yours."

"I don't remember agreeing with the last one." You muttered, but she just grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Okay, you may have a more active sex life than I do, -"

"I may?" She quirked a brow and you rolled your eyes.

"Shut it." You grumbled, leaning into her a little. She pressed her lips to your scalp, and you couldn't help but smile on how she had to get on her tiptoes to kiss you, since she wasn't wearing any heels for a miracle. You turned around slightly, covering her lips with yours. And you sighed, because. Damn, she was just too good to be true.

"Okay." She whispered, her lips still pressing yours. You took a step back, clearing your throat. "What do you think of these?" She asked, pulling you to another section of the store.

You looked all over it. You did want to try something new, something you didn't quite know, but you were just so scared.

But to be honest, there was this one thing you wanted to try. For quite a while actually, but it seemed so boring, and she probably had done it thousands of times.

You grimaced; the thought of Santana sleeping with someone else made you upset. But you shook your head, trying to put the feeling aside. This just wasn't going to happen.

"Britt." She called, squeezing your arm. "You've been staring to these nipple clamps and this flogger for five minutes, and I'm starting to worry, 'cause we're totally not using a flogger. I mean, if you want the nipple clamps, we could try, but –"

"There's something." You interrupted, biting your lower lip. "Something I always wanted to try, but I don't really know."

"Okay." She leaned a bit on the wall, jumping when the tip of a dildo pressed her back. "What would that be?"

"A strap-on."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You, Santana, Sugar and Hannah went out for dinner. Hank and his friends had gone out for drinks, so it was just a girls' night again.

And it was quite nice. You did have a good time, and Sugar was much softer with Santana than last time. They had an actual conversation, and they even laughed together. And, somehow, you could tell they weren't faking it.

And Santana. She was just – she held your hand, even though it was under the table and no one was actually seeing it. She kissed your face, she made you laugh too and she was just so nice and sweet you couldn't understand how someone could ever think she was a bitch.

"I'm going to bed." Hannah announced after you three got home. "I'm really tired. Please, don't make too much noise." She smirked, running upstairs before you could say a word.

"And I'm gonna go take a shower." Santana said, smiling. "And if you are not too tired, we could have some fun. Just you and me." She whispered on your ear, running upstairs just as Hannah did. You gulped; your throat suddenly felt really dry, and you needed water. So you went quickly to the kitchen, because seriously, you didn't want to make Santana wait. Even though she was taking a shower. And probably taking some long. Yeah, it was kind of silly, but whatever.

And you regret the immediate moment you set your feet on the kitchen, because seriously god? Why the hell was he even there? "Sam." You whispered, locking eyes with the blonde boy. "What are you doing here? It's late."

"I miss you, Britt." He said, his voice slurred. He was obviously drunk. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. "I miss you so badly." He walked closer, grabbing both of your shoulders with his hands. "You smell so good." He said, burying his nose on your neck and pressing wet kisses. And you felt nauseous. Because. Because his lips were dry, large, his breath smelled awfully like alcohol and – and he wasn't Santana.

"Stop it." You said softly, trying to push him. It didn't really work. "Sam, stop." You said firmly, disentangling your body from his. But he was stronger, much stronger. He kissed you, forcing his tongue on your mouth and grabbing your breasts with one of his hands. And you wanted to yell, to call for help, but you couldn't form a sound.

And then he was gone.

It all happened so fast you didn't have time to process everything. He was on the ground, and Santana was on top of him, fists smacking his face over and over again. And then he punched her, and she was on the floor. And. And you didn't even realize Hank and Hannah had come downstairs, already on their pajamas. And then Hank was carrying a bloody Sam out of your house, and Hannah was on the floor helping Santana up. And that's when you moved.

"No." She hissed, taking a step back. "Please don't."

"San-"

"Don't."

Hannah, who had been watching in silence, placed her hand on Santana's shoulder. "Come on, let's put some ice on your face." She said softly. Santana nodded, following your sister. "Britt, go to bed. It's really late, okay?"

"But –"

"Britt." Hannah interrupted. "Just go to bed. I'll talk to you in a moment."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You had been lying on your bed for god knows how long. You've heard the shower been turned on and off, but she hadn't come back yet. And you had been waiting.

Hannah went to your room to tell you she was okay. You told her what happened. And she listened. Patiently, without interrupting. And she told you Hank had kicked him out of the house, and out of the wedding. Because. Because you were more important than a jackass like Sam.

But she still wasn't there. And you didn't know what to do, because that wasn't any of your fault. But. But she was upset. And her cheek was swollen. And you wanted to see her. And –

"Santana." You called. She didn't answer, just got inside the room, shutting the door behind her. She lied by your side, her back turned at you. "Please, don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad." She sighed. You watched her putting ice on her face again, silently. Her cheek was pretty swollen. "I'm just – I don't know how I'm feeling, okay? This is just – gosh Britt, why didn't you run away?"

"I tried." You mumbled, but she wasn't listening.

"What if I hadn't gone downstairs?" She muttered, more to herself than for you. "What if I hadn't been there? What the hell would have happened?"

"He wouldn't –"

"No, don't." She interrupted. "Please don't say he wouldn't have done anything." She turned to face you, and her eyes – you couldn't read them. "You don't know a person when they are drunk, Brittany. Especially a boy who is jealous as fuck of his ex-girlfriend. You just – you don't know." She took a deep breath. "Tell me: did you think he'd even land a hand on a woman?"

"You hit him first." You mumbled, and she laughed.

"Still." You didn't answer. She didn't continue. "I'm really tired. I'll go to sleep."

"Okay." You whispered, and she turned her back to you. And all you wanted to do was to reach out for her and touch her, but.

But you didn't.


	10. Day 9

**A/N: GUYS!  
Don't be so pissed! It's all gonna end up well, I guess. I know you're all angry because Santana reacted like that, but I need this to continue my story, so be patient! Please. And yes, I'm very aware sexual assault is horrible and that no one should act like that (ever), but unfortunately some people do. Don't be so upset!  
Xoxo  
Jout Jout**

* * *

 **Day 9**

She's really quiet. She barely exchanged two words with you this morning, and you are starting to get nervous. Because. Because you are afraid she's going to leave. And you don't fear so because of the looks, not anymore; you just don't want her to leave at all. And it's scary, really. But you can't help it.

You had breakfast in absolute silence, and now you are back to your room. And she's lying on your bed. Her back is turned at you, and she's still on her pajamas. You climb into bed, crawling closer to her. Carefully, you wrap an arm around her waist, and she doesn't push you. She actually snuggles a little closer to you, and you sigh in relief. But neither of you say anything. You just stay there, awkwardly holding her and wondering what you could possibly say. But nothing comes out.

She turns around after a while, facing you. You run your hand through her back, until you've reached the back of her neck. Her cheek is swollen, and there's a small bruise in it. You move your hand to it, touching her face with your cool fingers. She closes her eyes, appreciating the contact. And then you lean, pressing your lips to hers. Softly, shortly. But she leans in for more when you break the kiss, and it makes you smile. And she smiles too, for a very brief second. And then her face is back to its seriousness, her eyes carrying that look you can't quite understand.

"How's your cheek?" You asked, still stroking the bruised area.

"It hurts a little." She mumbled, trying to act as if it was no big deal. You nodded slowly, pulling her slightly closer to your body. She rested her head on your neck for a second before untangling herself from you. "Britt, I'm going to Holly's today."

You stopped for a moment, frowning. "Okay…?"

"I'm going to Holly's alone today." She explained. You pressed your lips together, nodding quickly. "No, don't get me wrong. I just – I feel like I need it. Okay?" You didn't have any other choice but to agree, had you? "I'm going to take a shower now. I'll have lunch with her." She stopped a second. Then, she turned around to you, pressing her lips to your forehead. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Just don't leave." You whispered, and she frowned.

"I'm not leaving you." She promised. "Unless you want me to." You shook your head furiously, making her smile.

"I was just worried because –" You gulped, pointing to her cheek. "You know."

"I'm not leaving you because of an asshole. Just – forget about it, okay?" You nodded, and she kissed you again. "I'm not going anywhere. You know I'm not."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

But even though she promised it was okay, it wasn't. Because she wasn't there. She left, and you didn't have the guts to ask her to stay. And there was that look in her eyes, the one you couldn't understand. And she didn't kiss you goodbye. She actually didn't say goodbye at all.

And Hannah knew something was up. She could tell when you were sad, better than anyone else. And she just stood there with you, without saying anything. She didn't have to. You buried your face on the crook of her neck and cried. And. And you didn't even know for sure why you were crying. Actually, you knew. You were falling with her. And she left. Which didn't make much sense because you weren't actually together, but it made sense to you.

"I thought she was doing you some good." Hannah whispered but you shook your head.

"Please, don't blame it on her." You mumbled. "She's been nothing but amazing to me. Just –don't."

She didn't answer.

And at the end, you stopped crying. You told Hannah to text Hank because you wanted to make a final rehearsh. And you made them dance in your mom's living room, trying so hard not to laugh at Hank's lack of coordination. But he was really improving. You thought he'd do just fine tomorrow.

Sugar came over later. She didn't ask about Santana, but you knew she knew. But no one said a thing.

And you actually had a good time. All of you went out for ice cream, even though it was fucking freezing outside. Quinn texted, saying she'd be there tomorrow morning, 'cause her plane got late. And later you went ice skating, because you'd been asking to since the very beginning of this afternoon.

"Dinner will be out in a minute!" Your mom announced, and your stomach grumbled. Hannah giggled, and your face turned slightly red.

And then.

"Hi." Cool lips pressed to your temple, then to your cheek. "Missed you."

"Hey Satan!" Sugar cheered, a smirk upon her lips. Santana quirked a brow, returning the smile. Yeah, she obviously had spoken to Quinn.

"I'm sorry I didn't call; I forgot my phone somewhere." She mumbled, sliding to your lap and wrapping an arm around your neck. "I meant to come earlier, but Holly wanted help to bake cookies. I got you some, by the way." You tried to smile, but it didn't really come out as you expected. And she noticed. "We're good, kay?" She whispered, lips pressing to your skin again. "Relax. Did you guys had fun without me today?" She asked, a smug on her lips.

"We tried." Hannah anwered cooly. "Where were you?"

"Holly's." She shrugged. "I needed a break from that one." She pointed to Sugar with her chin.

"Asshole."

"And you think you can just disappear for god knows how long and then come back to my sister as –"

"Hannah!" Sugar hissed. "Could you guys come with me? I need a glass of water."

"You know where the kitchen is."

"Come on now." Your cousin grabbed your sister by the arm, pulling her out of the living room. Hank took a moment to get the hint, but followed them after a second. You two stood in silence; Santana still sitting on your thighs, arm carefully wrapped around your neck.

"I was planning to do this later, but after such a subtle hint…" She mumbled, lifting your chin slightly so you'd look at her. "I'm really sorry for last night, Britt. I – you tried to explain, but you shouldn't have to. But anyway, I should have listened, and I didn't. And I know I made you feel stupid, but I didn't mean to. I was just –" She took a deep breath, her hand moving smoothly on your scalp. "I was scared. Because I really freaked out when I saw him hurting you. Because –"

"Because I shouldn't be treated like this." You finished, and she nodded slowly. You smiled. "I know it now, thanks to you." You leaned in just a little bit, pecking her lips. She sighed in relief, resting her head on yours. "I'm really glad you came with me. I wouldn't have made it without you."

"I'm glad I'm here too." She mumbled, as you pulled her to a more comfortable position. You held her close for a moment, before she broke the contact. "I – I really care about you. You know that, right?" Your heart sunk a bit, but you nodded.

"I really care about you too."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dinner was – weird. Hannah kept eying Santana as if she was about to murder her or something, but didn't say anything. At all, really. She kept her mouth shut the entire dinner.

Your parents didn't seem to notice though. They had a heated discussion about where their sweet Quinnie should stay when she got home. Your parents loved Quinn. And Beth. Actually, you were pretty sure they always invited her over because then they could spend some time with their "granddaughter". They kind that adopted Quinn when she got pregnant.

"We can stay at Holly's." You blurted out, making Santana quirk a brow. "I mean, quinn could have my room. I'm sure Holly wouldn't mind."

"Yeah, we could do that." Santana agreed, after everyone else remained in silence. "I could sent her a text right now so she could set the guests' room for us."

"Yeah, makes it easier for you to get into Britt's pants." Hannah grumbled.

And then you just – something got on you. Your heart was beating faster, and a rage wave got into your body.

"I'm done with this shit!" You snapped, your hand smacking the table. Santana shrank. "Will you stop being a brat? What's gotten into you? She said she's fucking sorry! She made one mistake, in our relationship. You have no fucking right to speak to us like this."

"She was a bitch to you!" Hannah exploded. "She made you cry! And I know you spent the whole day expecting at least a fucking text, because I saw you with that goddamn phone Britt!" Santana squeezed your thigh, eyes widened. Almost as if she wanted to calm you down. Didn't work. "Can't you see it? It's gonna be the same, all over again. Just another Sam. But I'm not letting it happen."

"Don't." Santana stood up at the immediate second you did, putting both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to back off. Sugar was on her feet to, standind in the middle of you and Hannah. "Britt, please don't." She said more softly this time, hands running down your arms smoothly. But you didn't even look at her. Your eyes, teary now, were focusing on Hannah. And you were just so mad. "Sweetie, come on. Please, let's stop fighting." She practically pleaded. Your mom was crying. Your dad was confused. And Hank was too choked to move.

"Don't expect me at your wedding tomorrow." You say, your voice cracking because of the tears. "If that's what you think of me, don't expect me to show up."

"Britt, this is not about you." Hannah sighed, getting on her feet.

"Yes it is!" You cried, and Santana had to hold you. Because you were so mad. You couldn't control yourself anymore. "You are saying that I'm stupid! You are basically saying t-that I can't learn from my mistakes, you are saying that I'm stupid enough to do the same dumb thing twice!"

"Britt, stop." Santana begged, and. And you think you saw a tear roll down her cheeks.

"And she," You continued, poiting to Santana. "She doesn't think that I'm stupid. S-she thinks I'm a genius. A-and I really like her, I really do. And you are not gonna speak with my girlfriend like that." You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her with you. "You are not gonna make her feel bad."

And like this, you left the room. You pulled Santana with you, and you knew Sugar was following you upstairs. You got into your room as quick as you could, starting to grab your stuff.

"Text Holly." You told Santana. "I'm not staying here."

"Britt, I'm not letting you fight with your family because of me." Santana cooed, holding both of your arms and forcing you to stop. "Come on, don't be like that."

"It's not about you." You sighed, allowing her to wipe the tears away. "This is about how she treats me like I'm stupid. I got into MIT, Santana! I got into fucking MIT and she thinks I can't actually be with a nice person, because I'm to stupid to find one by myself."

"Don't call yourself that." Santana mumbled, arms carefully wrapping around you. "Britt, she's worried. It's natural."

"I don't want to be here with her, Santana." You cried, and the brunette nodded, pressing kisses to your hair. "Please, call Holly."

"San, let her be." Sugar said, standing by the door. "She's right; it's probably best if you two spend a night at Holly's. I'll give you a ride." Santana nodded, pressing a kiss to your head before starting to search for her phone. Sugar approached you, helping you grab your stuff and Santana's. It took only a few minutes before you were ready to go.

You three got downstairs quickly, carrying your bags with you. Your sister was waiting on the entrance, arms crossed to her chest. Santana eyed Sugar, who signed for her to keep going ahead. But you didn't.

"Britt, don't do this." Your sister pleaded. You didn't answer, and she sighed. "I'm really sorry I insulted your girlfriend. Please, just –"

"I should go." You interrupted. You didn't want to be there anymore. It was just – suffocating.

"Britt –"

"No."

You got out of the house as quick as you could. She didn't say anything else.

Santana was already inside the car, sitting in the backseat. You took a sit by her side, allowing her to wrap an arm around you. No one, not even Sugar, said anything. Even though you felt like they wanted to.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Holly didn't ask too many questions either. She just pointed you your room and asked if you and Santana didn't mind sleeping together. She smirked when you quickly answered "no" and you knew she knew it. Santana didn't seem to mind though. She just pressed her hand on your back, guiding you to the bedroom.

And now you couldn't sleep. You were staring at the ceiling, both of your hands on your chest. Your heart was aching. Because. Because you fought to your family. Your whole world, your whole. And. And you didn't get to be with your girl. Who wasn't even really your girl. But you wanted her to. So bad. And you wanted her and your family to be in your life. But. But you were losing both.

And then the lights were on.

"Yell at me." Santana sat in bed, on top of you, pleading. "Don't act as if you are not angry. Yell at me, fight with me. Say I'm a horrible friend for turning my back at you. Let your sister be mad at me too, but don't do this." You mirrored her, sitting too.

"I'm not sure of what we are talking about, San." You mumbled, but she scoffed.

"Don't lie to me!" She threw the covers away, her bare legs dragging her out of the bed. She stood on her feet in front of you, straightening her pajamas. She was wearing a tank that molded her breasts perfectly, and it probably would make you jump on her at any other time, but she looked so – she looked almost pissed at you. "I promised I'd be there for you, that I wouldn't judge. And I couldn't keep it. And I made you cry, for fuck's sake! I didn't even care to ask you if you were fine. Damn, that was sexual assault. I should have asked if you wanted to report it. I should –" She groaned, running her hands through her hair. Your hands clutched at the covers, unsure of what to do. "Britt, you have the right to be mad. It's fine, I expect you to. But don't act like you are not."

"I ain't mad, Santana."

"You are barely looking at me right now!" She hissed, going back to bed. She grabbed both of your arms, pinning you down in bed. "You flinch when I touch you, didn't you realize that?" You wanted to answer, but – but you didn't. "I didn't mean to hurt you." You opened your mouth, but she shushed you. "Don't say I didn't." Her face was close to yours. Her pretty eyes. Her full lips. Her swollen cheek. Her long, messy hair. All of her expecting you to say something, but for a minute, nothing came out.

"You did hurt me." You mumbled, and it made the hold on your wrists ease. "But I know you were just upset, Santana. I get it." She sighed, shaking her head. "I do. I know you left because you were hurt too. We both needed some fresh air." Her eyes were closed. You leaned. "Kiss me, please?" You asked quietly, making her eyes snap open. And she did. Pushing you gently back to bed, lips glued to yours. And then, she pressed kisses all over your face, kisses you didn't quite get because she'd never done this before, but you weren't complaning.

She broke the kisses, resting her forehead on yours. "I care too much about you." You smiled weakly, allowing her to lay on top of you. "Would it be weird if I told you I never had a friend as good as you? Don't tell Quinn, by the way." You laughed, burying your face on her neck. "I'm serious though. You are my best friend, Britt."

"Do best friends do what we do?" You asked quietly. You felt her body stiffening, which made you hold her even tighter.

"I bet best friends as hot as we are do it all the time." She whispered back, snuggling to your body. You felt her voice a little weird, but you didn't question. "And as your best friend, it's my duty to ask whether you were serious or not about your sister's wedding."

"I was."

"Britt –" Santana sighed, but you shook your head.

"I don't wanna talk about it." You interrupted, and she nodded, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"Alright, alright." She turned off the lights again, before pulling the covers. "Night Britt."

"Night." She wrapped her arms around your waist, head on your shoulder. "San?"

"Yeah?"

"You are my best friend too."


	11. Day 10

**A/N: Kay, let me explain this very quickly  
Here in Brazil, we have a thing called "vestibular", that's basically a test that decides if you can go to a certain college or not. I'm taking one of these tests this weekend that is out of my town, so I probably won't update tomorrow because I forgot to upload the next few chapters. But who knows, right? Maybe I'll be home earlier:)  
Xoxo  
Jout Jout**

 **xxxxxxxxx**

 **Day 10**

You wake up all curled around Santana. Your nose is pressing her tanned skin, while she mumbles something you can't quite understand. You open your eyes and breaks the contact, trying to understand what she was saying. And then you realize.

She talks when she sleeps.

And you have to really hold back your laughter, because there's something incredibly funny in seeing someone grumbling. Especially when it's Santana.

"San…" You whispered, trying not to laugh too laud. She did this weird move, turning around sharply and burying her face on her pillow. You rolled your eyes, moving your body closer to hers once again. "Saaaaan…" You called, giggling when she grumbled even louder. So you decided to get a little more aggressive. You started poking her hips and ribs, until she started laughing and tried to push herself away from you.

"Stop it, you little twat!" She laughed, trying unsuccessfully to grab your hands. You stood on top of her, You called, giggling when she grumbled even louder. So you decided to get a little more aggressive. You started poking her hips and ribs, until she started laughing and tried to push herself away from you.

"Alright, alright." You giggled, letting go of her. You laid back by her side, arm wrapping lazily around her waist. "You talk in your sleep."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do." You giggled, kissing her cheek. She tried to pout, but soon enough there was a big grin on her face. "Did you seriously called me of a twat?"

"You were tickling me!" She said in her defense, but then started laughing again. "God, that was mean."

"I'm sorry, Sanny." You wrapped both arms around her, burying your face on her neck again. "It's still early."

"It's past eleven, Britt." She pointed, and you groaned. "We gotta talk."

"I don't wanna."

"Britt." She sighed, turning around slightly to look at you. You pouted, but she wasn't buying it. "Britt, she's your sister. Your baby sister, who also happens to be one of your best friends. You can't just miss her wedding like this." You tried to turn around, but Santana held you on place. "I know it's a day you've been dreaming about too."

"I actually thought I'd be the one getting married by now." You grumbled, and she stroke your hair.

"Well, thank god you are not." She mumbled, pressing her lips to your forehead, and for a moment, you just thought – "You'd be married to that asshole, Britt. You are way better without him." And you wanted to sigh, because yeah, you were _really_ much better now, especially when she was there, but then – "But that's not the point. You told me you were so excited to see your little sister marrying someone nice. I refuse to believe that excitement doesn't exist anymore."

"Well, she hurt me." You shot back, slightly annoyed.

"She's human, Britt. She was trying to protect you from me, which is absolutely normal." She said softly. "She was confused with all that situation. She just doesn't want another Sam into your life, because she knows you deserve better."

"But what if I liked you?" You sighed, arms wrapping tighter around the brunette. "Why can't she trust me?"

"It's not about you; this is about me." She explained. "At least think about it, okay?" You grumbled, making her laugh. "Okay, grumpy. Come on, I'm really hungry." She jumped out of the bed, pulling you with her. You ran straight downstairs, still on your pajamas, giggling like two kids. She guided you to the empty kitchen, hand still holding yours. "You're totally making me breakfast right now."

"Oh, am I?" You quirked a brow, giggling. You pushed her slightly to the kitchen counter, standing right in front of her. And she looked so happy that moment, and you just –

And then you kissed her. And apparently it took her by surprise, because it took her a few seconds to grab your waist and start to kiss you back. And, as usual, you felt like heaven. Until –

"Please, not in my kitchen you two." Holly sighed, making you break the kiss. "Why am I not surprised this is actually a thing?"

"It's not." Santana rolled her eyes, and – and you swear you could feel your heart shattering. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, I always wanted a friend like that too." Holly mocked, laughing at you. "Get your asses out of my counter. I'm making breakfast."

"Don't you need a hand?" Santana asked politely, but Holly shook her head.

"God no. I have a suspicion on where these hands have been." You wanted to die. Okay, maybe not die, but you wanted to bury yourself in a hole and never get out. "But you can set the table, please. After you both wash your hands. And no sexy times in my bathroom. I got you both a room for that."

Santana laughed, holding your hand and pulling you to the small bathroom on the hallway. But then you stopped, midway. "What?" She asked, turning around and standing right by your side. You didn't answer; you kept staring to the pictures on the walls. A lot of them were of family meetings, in which you appeared by your sister's side. It also had a few of Holly's trips with one of her crazy friends, April, another of you and Sugar toothless and another one you figured it was Santana when she was little. And then there was this one.

It was a picture of two girls, around five. Both faces covered messily in makeup, with huge grins on it. One of the kids, the taller one, was you. And the other – "Is that you?" You asked, pointing to the picture. She followed your directions, nodding. And you couldn't believe it. "Well, this one is me."

And you couldn't believe it. Because – because that girl in the picture was your first love, even when you didn't know what falling in love meant. You didn't remember her name when the years passed, but you sure remembered her. And it was amazing, because you spent ten days together that summer, exactly the same amount of time you two spent together this year. And it was scary, really. Because you always thought of this girl – because yes, you still think of her – as one of these great loves, maybe even your soulmate, that you'd never get to meet again. And now – now she was standing there, right by your side, and you'd fallen with her all over again. Or maybe you'd never stopped loving her.

"You were my first love, you know?" You mumbled, staring at the picture. "Like that movie of the little boy and the little girl. You know, the one with Macaulay?" She smiled, nodding.

"Except I didn't die of bee stings." She pointed out, and you rolled your eyes. "You were my first love too, Britt."

"For real?"

"For real." She moved, standing behind you. She wrapped both arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. "You are way too short to do this." You giggled.

"Shut up, you dork." She poked your ribs, making you gasp. "Come on, now. We gotta go."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where are we going now?" You asked, but she didn't answer. "Are you kidnapping me?"

"In Lima? I highly doubt it could happen." Santana joked, parking the car. "I'm just taking you for ice cream. Definitely not kidnapping you."

"You're gonna make me fat." You grumbled, following her out of the car. She rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you walked into the parlor. "Seriously, this is what? The third time I'm having ice cream this week? And it's cold."

"Oh." She mumbled, looking down to her feet. "I mean, we could go get some hot chocolate. I mean, I didn't think of –"

"No, San, I – gosh, I didn't mean it like that." You ran your fingers through your hair, sighing. "I'm just moody today. Ice cream is perfect."

"Are you sure?" She asked, biting her lip. "We don't have to go there. We could just, I don't know. You know this city better than I do."

"San, really. We can get ice cream. I need to get some sugar into my system." She smiled at that, and you couldn't help but smile too. "Can you promise me just this one thing?"

"What?"

"That you won't disappear." She frowned in confusion. "I – I just wanna make sure we'll still be in touch. I mean, we _are_ best friends now. You can't just – just promise you won't go away. Please."

You were accepting you wouldn't have her. You were actually accepting it was about to end. But. But you couldn't lose her. Not completely.

"Britt, I'm not going anywhere." She took a step closer, standing on her tiptoes and kissing you. "Where did that came from?"

"I – it's just that tomorrow we'll go back to New York, and I thought – I just thought that when our little bubble exploded, you won't want to be friends with me anymore."

"Don't ever say that again!" She hissed, arms wrapping around your neck. "Like, ever. Britt, I mean it when I say you are special, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm not convinced." She joked, holding your hand once again as you entered the parlor. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" She asked while you both waited in line. You shook your head, and she just nodded. "I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I really think you should go. And – and maybe you should try to talk to her."

"Santana –"

"No, just hear me out." She interrupted. "Please." You sighed, but nodded in agreement. "Look, I don't think she's gonna enjoy her wedding without her big sister being there for her. And I know you'll regret it. Maybe not today, but you will. And I don't want you feeling sorry for the rest of your life because of a stupid fight."

"It wasn't stupid!" You hissed, but she shook her head.

"Yes, it _was._ " She insisted. "You know so. Yes, it hurt. But it's not something this big for you to miss a special day like this." You looked away, and she softned her voice. "Britt, I'm not trying to pick a fight here. I'm just saying." She pressed a kiss to your warm cheek, staring worriedly at you. "Don't be mad at me. You know I'm right."

You closed your eyes, feeling hers on you. You weren't angry, you just – "I need some fresh air." You mumbled, turning around and leaving her alone in the line.

She didn't come after you.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You stood in silence outside of the ice cream parlor. You sat on a bench near the shop and waited in silence for Santana to come after you, but.

But she didn't.

And it was fucking freezing outside. Like, really, really cold. But you didn't want to be inside there, to be surrounded by these people you didn't even know. You wanted to be with Santana, just the two of you. No. actually, you didn't want just that. You wanted your mom. And dad. And – and Hannah. And even Hank, because Hank was family too now.

And you wanted to be there, but –

But you were upset.

And yes, Santana was probably right. Okay, she was _definitely_ right, but – but you were proud. You wanted to keep on your word, even though you didn't mean it. For fuck's sake, you love your sister. The last thing you want is to miss her wedding, and her in a wedding dress, her first dance –

"I changed my mind." Santana suddenly appeared, sitting by your side. "I thought hot chocolate was a better option." She handed you a cup, which you took gladly.

"What if I've changed my mind too?" You mumbled, and she smiled.

"Well, in that case I brought a dress that makes me look smoking hot, and I would be pretty upset if I didn't wear it." You smiled too. She leaned in, closing the gap between your mouths. She left you breathless every single damn time. "I'm proud of you. You're making the right thing." She kissed you again. You broke it.

"Santana." You'd have to talk about this. Sooner or later. "Best friends don't do this."

She stopped. Her face was inches away from yours, her eyes watching your lips. And then she backed off, resting her back on the bench. She kept looking at nowhere, her expression blank.

"I'm not quite sure of what you want me to say." She mumbled, and you nodded.

"I'm not sure either." You moved your hand to her lap, giving hers a light squeeze. She looked down to it, and then to you once again. And this time you kissed her. Nothing big, just a peck. You rested your forehead on hers, suddenly forgetting that it was really cold and that you weren't dressed for it. You stood in silence, hearing each other's breaths. She pressed a firm kiss to your cheek.

"Come on, chipmunk." She stood up, offering you her hand. "We gotta get ready for the wedding."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She did everything.

She did your hair, your makeup. She even helped you fix your dress, because it was all creased. She didn't say much, just kept moving. And you, after getting ready, helped her hide the bruise on her cheek. It wasn't swollen anymore, but it didn't look good.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, applying makeup. She shook her head as you left out a sigh.

"It looks worse than it feels."

"I'm glad then."

And then there was silence again. And you remained in silence the whole way, until the place of the ceremony. And literally all you wanted right now was to grab her and kiss her senseless, because she looked fucking hot on this dress and because – because it seemed to be the only thing that would get her interacting with you.

"Are you alright?" She whispered, squeezing your hand lightly.

"Y-yeah, I think I am." You muttered, following her inside the place. And it was awesome, really. It looked like one of these marriages of Disney movies. Except.

Except everyone was already there but her.

"Oh, thank god you two are here. Don't you ever look at these damn phones?" Quinn hissed, giving you and Santana a bear hug. "Aw, you look so cute together. I would totally ship you two."

"Thanks _Lucy._ " Santana smirked, making your friend roll her eyes. "Where's Hannah?"

"Yeah, that's what we need to talk about." Quinn sighed, pulling you both to the other side of the place. "She said she wouldn't get married until Britt arrived. Actually, _if_ Britt arrived. Do you wanna tell me what the hell happened while I wasn't here?"

"You should go talk to her." Santana advised, and you nodded. "Go. I'll keep Barbie here busy."

"Will you ever stop calling me that?"

"No."

You rolled your eyes at both of them. You pressed a light kiss to Santana's cheek, which made her blush, and left, walking towards the room your sister was. You didn't need any directions because Hannah had told you about this place like, a thousand times, and emailed you all the pictures, explaining where everything would be. You knew it by heart, even though you had never been here before.

You knocked slowly on the door, but no one answered. You could hear someone sniffling inside the room though. "Han?" You called, getting inside the room. And your little sister was there, her makeup all blurred and eyes all sad. Not when she saw you though. When she looked at you, her eyes got confused, and even a little hopeful. "You look so beautiful, Han."

"You came." She got on her feet, running towards you. You opened your arms, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm s-sorry Britt. I didn't mean it; please, don't hate me."

"I'd never hate you, silly." You smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I'm sorry too." She buried her face on the crook of your neck, sighing in relief. "Come on, sweetie. We gotta fix that makeup. You're getting married."

"I am." She let go of you, taking a step back. "Britt, I'm getting married."

"Well, I hope so. I didn't spend all my time trying to teach Hank to dance for nothing." She giggled at that, sitting on a chair in front of a mirror.

"God, I have no idea on how to fix it." She mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror. "Please, tell me you got any ideas."

"You know I'm horrible with this makeup thing." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Santana could fix it, though. She did my makeup."

Hannah sighed. "Britt –"

"I really like her, okay?" You interrupted. "People screw up, Hannah. I screw up too, and a lot. But – but she really cares about me. And I care too." You bate your lower lip, staring at her. "I'm not saying that you have to love her and be best friends with her, 'cause that's my job. But it would be really nice if you could at least try to respect her. And to respect me. Because – because I chose her to spend my life with. And you disrespecting her is the same thing as telling me you don't respect my choices. So please."

She wasn't looking at you. She kept staring at her feet, and you wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her until she spoke, because that was seriously driving you insane. "I'm sorry. I just – I really don't want you to get hurt again." You walked towards her, kneeling down and embracing her. "Text her, please?"

You nodded. You did as she asked, and two minutes later, Santana was there. And she looked scared, really scared. So you took a step closer, pulling her hand. She was so fucking nervous, eyes darting to you and Hannah. "Can you help fix her makeup?" You broke the silence, squeezing Santana's hand. She nodded, and you grabbed another chair, putting it in front of your sister.

"I'm sorry." Hannah muttered, and Santana just shrugged.

"I understand." She smiled a little. "I'm sorry too."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She was a little quiet during the wedding. She was much more relaxed, but still quiet. Quinn sat by your side and kept sending you weird looks. She looked happy and you often would catch her smiling like the crazy lady who lives in the third floor of your building, but you couldn't get why. You wondered what she and Santana talked about.

She kept quiet during dinner and even at the party. And then you were done with that.

You stood up, pulling Santana with you. She frowned, sending you a questioning look, but you didn't say a thing. "What are we gonna do?" She asked.

"We're gonna dance, silly. I wanna see you moving these hips."

She tried to argue, but you had already pulled her to the dancing floor. And she hesitated a little, but soon she was dancing with you. Dancing and laughing, arms wrapped around your neck for most of the time. And you just – you had never been happier than this.

You got home at 6 a.m., a bit tipsy, but not drunk. And you were very aware of every move you were taking, since when you got her dress off until when you were touching her, kissing every little part of her skin.

"I'm really glad you are here." You whispered, stroking her cheek and kissing her face.

"I'm glad too." She whispered back, pulling you to another kiss.

You knew it was right. You fit together. She made everything feel fine, everything feel right.

But.

But you were too scared to tell.


	12. Day 11

**Day 11**

You woke up with her in your arms. She was already up, playing with your fingers quietly. You gave her hand a little squeeze, just to let her know you were already up.

"Morning, blondie." She muttered, as you pulled her closer to you. "Sleep well?"

"I didn't get much sleep." You answered, yawning. "I'll sleep on the plane."

"Yeah." She sighed, gripping your hand tighter. And then there was silence again.

She was upset. You could tell, because it was the same way she was acting when Sam hit her. And yeah, you were dying to ask her what was going on, but you didn't. Instead, you chose to enjoy the few hours you two still had left.

"I'm gonna miss this." She said so lowly you barely heard her voice. You kissed her neck, tightening the grip on her hips. "I really enjoyed being here, Britt. Your family is awesome."

"You are welcome to come back at any time." She laughed, shaking her head.

"I think it would be a little weird if your ex-girlfriend appeared to stay a few days with your mom."

 _Then don't be my ex-girlfriend._

"Yeah, I guess." You mumbled, mentally snapping yourself. She held your hand closer to her bare chest, gently running her fingers through your pale skin. You kissed her hair again. "But you know, you can always come over to my place. You already know where I live, and I'm pretty sure Lord T. would be happy if you came by to visit some time." _And I would be too_. "Seriously, though. You promised not to run away."

"I'm not." She kissed your hand, and you felt a smile. "Don't worry about it." You sighed, but nodded. "We really should get up."

"Yeah, we should."

None of you moved.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She was quiet during the car ride to the airplane too. Of course she smiled and hugged your mom and dad back, promising them she'd be back soon, and that she'd make you call your mom every once in a while, because _seriously Brittany? Is it too hard to pick your damn phone up and call your parents?_ And she blushed a lot when your mom gave her a box full with her homemade cookies, because she'd really loved her cookies. And she also promised your dad she'd come back soon so he could take you and her to spend a day in a boat. You had to remind him there was no place in Lima to drive a boat, and also that he didn't have one, but Santana shushed you and promised him she'd come and that they'd look for a boat somewhere.

And the worst part was that your parents were actually sad she was leaving.

You didn't mean for them to like her that much. You seriously had no idea they'd end up getting along well. Well, it seemed to be a little impossible for them not to love her _now,_ but how could you know?

How could you know _you_ would end up loving her too?

And she wrapped an arm around your waist as you said goodbyes, and your mom actually had to wipe some tears away because she was genuinely sad you and Santana were leaving. And you were pretty sure you caught a tears rushing down Santana's cheek after you both entered in the airplane, but you didn't have the heart to ask.

She ended up loving them too.

You just wished –

And, as tired as you were, you didn't get much sleep in the plane. You held her hand the whole trip, because now you knew how much planes freaked her out. She lifted the armrest and awkwardly cuddled with you, also trying to get some sleep, but not being very successful. She was just too sad.

And you just –

You wanted to die when the plane finally landed. Because she unclasped her hand of yours and stopped cuddling with you. And that was pretty much when reality finally hit you.

Tonight, you'd sleep alone.

Tomorrow, there'd be no Santana anymore.

And when you two got out of the plane, you decided to stick together just for a few more moments. You waited for your bags together, which thankfully took long enough to come. And then you decided to share a cab, because why not? She only lived a few blocks away. Eight, to be more precise. She'd told you. And maybe you'd counted too.

She rested her head on your shoulder during the whole ride. She kept playing with your hands too. Quietly, but still.

When you got to her building, you got down too. You helped her with her bags, taking as long as you could to get them out of the car. But then –

But then there was no time left.

"Call me, okay?" You said, biting your lower lip. She nodded, smiling. A sad smile, you could tell. "Santana –"

"I'll see you around, okay?" She interrupted, lifting her hand to your chin and bringing your face close. She pressed a firm kiss to your cheek, instantly making it hot, as usual. "Take care, Britt."

And then she was gone.

You stood there, watching the front door. Your chest ached. Your heart, actually. Like it was being shattered, destroyed. And you only moved because the driver was waiting for you, watching impatiently. And you could tell he was curious about the redness on your blue eyes, but thankfully he didn't say a word. You didn't want to hear anyone.

Lord T. welcomed you home the second you stepped in. And that was too when you started crying. Sobbing, actually. You collapsed to the ground, curling your body in a ball between cries and sobs. Your cat wandered around you, looking at you as if he wanted to do something to make you stop crying so much.

"She's gone, LT." You mumbled when you finally managed to stop the cries. "I didn't tell her. I should have –"

You cried yourself to sleep.


	13. Cause Baby It's You

**A/N: Hey guys!  
First, thank you for all the good luck wishes. Yes, I think I did well on my exam, and yes, I am Brazilian. And no, I didn't forget they got a strap-on ****J** **just wait for it. Still about the reviews, there were a few I didn't quite get, but I'm not sure if that was meant for me of for the whole fandom. But just in case, I don't hate/worship Brittany or Santana, I worship Brittana. Sorry if I forgot to answer someone.  
Oh, and just wanted to let you know there'll be just a few more chapters (two, maybe three), and that after that, I'm starting to take requests. If you have any, you can send to me:)  
Xoxo  
Jout Jout**

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Two weeks and four days later**

One thing everyone knows about you: you love the snow.

You love the day after a snowstorm, when you can go out on the streets and jump on it. You love to make snowmen with your students, you love walking on the snow and you love to watch the snow falling. But not tonight. Tonight, the snow is making you pretty upset.

You hadn't been sleeping well during the past days. Though your life had, indeed, changed. You were more confident, much more than usual. You noticed it, and so did Mike, your boss. A week ago, a parent went to the academy to tell you her daughter must had a solo. And you told her no, because she wasn't ready. She made a scandal, called you names you'd rather not repeat, threatened to get her daughter out of the academy, but you put your foot down. Before her, you would have given away, because you hated to pick up fights. But not now.

And just two days ago, Mike had given you a promotion, because _you earned it._ You knew he watched that little show, but he never mentioned it. He noticed you had changed too. And, also knowing that, he managed to get you a part-time job as a choreographer to a Broadway's show. And you were really, _really_ happy with that opportunity, because you'd never been on a Broadway show before, only off-Broadway's.

But still.

And you had been actually trying to cook. You watched a lot of videos on YouTube and you learned how to cook some basic stuff, like pasta and rice. And you stopped eating Lucky Charms every damn morning – thankfully – because now you were cooking your own breakfast. Your bacon didn't burn anymore, your pancakes didn't end up over your ceiling. You made a smiley face every morning, even though it was just for you.

But still.

You learned to do your own makeup. Also on YouTube, you found this awesome vlogger who made videos teaching how to do your own makeup. And now you were actually buying tons and tons of it, because it was actually really nice to make. And you learned new hairdos too; you'd been trying them every day, and a lot of people complimented your hair. And also your makeup, because you were actually getting quite good on it.

But still.

You were happy. You'd grown; you'd turned into a much more mature person. And you were actually taking care of yourself; you even went to the doctor to get a flu shot, even though you are scared to death of going to the doctor. You even went to the dentist and to the eye doctor. It turns out you actually needed glasses, and real badly. You'd never noticed your vision was that awful.

But.

But something was still missing.

And now you were lying on your bed, scratching behind your cat's ears and watching the snow falling. There was going to have a blizzard tonight, so no work for you tomorrow. And you would be happy to get some rest, but being home meant you'd keep missing her. It meant you'd remember that she never returned any of your texts, or even your calls. It meant that you'd have to sleep alone and, even though you were really happy with all the things you'd achieved in just a few days, you'd have to cry yourself to sleep because you missed her too badly.

Your phone rang. You ignored it the first time and the second too, because you just knew it wasn't her, but after the third time it started ringing you sighed and grabbed it. "Hello?"

 _"_ _Please, don't tell me you're screwing each other's brains out again."_ You smiled, sadly.

"Hey Sug." You mumbled, yawning. You didn't notice you were so tired.

 _"_ _So, how's everything? You haven't called, you little twat."_ She hissed on the phone. _"And how's your bitchy girlfriend?"_

"I haven't really spoken to her." You suddenly felt lonely. Even though –

 _"_ _Are you fucking kidding me? You really haven't told her yet?"_

"Well, I can't say that I didn't try." You muttered. "I guess she'd have answered her phone if she felt something too. But –"

 _"_ _Of course she felt something! She even told Quinn!"_ Sugar yelled on the phone, and your eyes went wide. _"Are you serious, Britt? No fooling?"_

"What the hell are you talking about?"

 _"_ _The wedding, for Christ!"_ Sugar groaned. _"She told Quinn she felt something for you. Goddamn it, Britt! Did you seriously –"_

"I gotta go." You interrupted her, ending the call. You took a look outside; it was still snowing, but it didn't seem _that_ bad.

But that seemed a little crazy.

You got your boots on. You buttoned your coat. You grabbed your gloves, your scarf and your beanie and you poured your cat an extra portion of food. And then you ran downstairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

And yeah, you were wrong. It was _that_ bad outside. But you were already there, so you started walking quickly. Running, actually. There was no one on the streets, so you didn't even pay attention to where you were going. You just ran. You had to go eight blocks down the street, so you could run.

But maybe running in a snowy day wasn't the best option.

At the block number four, you fell. You hit your chin on the floor, and you hurt your ankle. And you wanted to cry, because it hurt like bitch. But you were a grown up now, so you got on your feet – well, _foot_ actually, since you couldn't really put your right foot on the ground, and tried to move as fast as you could. Which didn't turn out to be _that_ fast, but still.

You tried rushing down the street, but you almost fell again. So you slowed down, because you were planning on getting to her building alive at least. But it was cold, and you were all wet thanks to the snow, and you were now trembling and you were pretty sure you were freezing to death.

And only when you were in front of her building you remembered you didn't know which her apartment was.

You would call her, but then again, if she had answered her phone, you wouldn't be here. You groaned, tears rushing down your cheeks. Your knee, ankle and chin hurt. You actually got a cut on your knee too, and you managed to rip your sweatpants when you fell. And you were pretty sure your chin was bleeding too.

"Do you need any help, dear?" An old lady squeezed your shoulder, making you jump. "Oh, dear! What happened to you?"

"I-I fell." You sniffled. And then – "D-do you live here?"

"Yes. Come inside; you can't walk like that." She opened the door, but you shook your head.

"N-no, thank you. D-do you k-know in which apartment Santana Lopez lives?"

The old lady frowned, staring at you. And then she smiled, nodding. "She lives in 303. Come inside; I'm sure she won't mind."

"T-thank you, ma'am." You said, and she just laughed.

"Just say hi to Santana for me, dear. And take care of that cut!" You nodded furiously, wiping the tears away.

Using the stairs wasn't actually _that_ awful, since you had the handrail. But getting there, well, that was –

She wasn't the one who opened the door.

A blue haired girl answered it instead. And you could smell something nice coming from inside the apartment, which was probably Santana making dinner. For her. The blue haired girl, with nice eyes and nice skin. And nice makeup, and nice smile, and nice – "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting for that." She said, opening the door wider. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I-I – "

"Britt?"

You didn't notice tears were falling once again. And she was looking at you, her eyes so confused. And suddenly the other girl was gone, and Santana was rushing over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you inside. And then the nice girl, the _beautiful_ girl, was saying goodbye, and something about feeding her dog and – and then she was gone. And you were crying. And Santana was confused.

"What happened to you?" She asked, touching your forehead. And it felt so nice, because her hands were so soft and cool, and – "Shit, you have a fever." She mumbled, more to herself than to you. "Damn Brittany, say something!"

"Is the pretty girl your girlfriend?" You asked, and she frowned confused. "She looks so pretty, San. Her makeup is nice, and her hair is so cool. B-but I can do my makeup as nice as hers now, a-and I could dye my hair blue. I-I guess it would look nice."

"Dani is not my girlfriend, Britt. She's my neighbor." Santana answered, touching your face everywhere. "Aren't you gonna tell me what happened?"

"I fell."

"Yeah, that I could tell. But how?"

"I was running."

"You were running in the middle of a blizzard?" She quirked a brow and then pointed to your outfit. "And in these clothes."

"I wasn't running _running,_ silly. I was running to here."

"I'm not sure if I should ask why." She mumbled. "Alright, we're getting these wet clothes off. And – fuck, what happened to your knee? And chin?"

"W-were you making dinner to your girlfriend?" You asked, tears back in your eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to – I'll come back another time." You tried to get up, but she held you down.

"You are not going anywhere." She said firmly. "We _have_ to get you some dry clothes. This fever is really getting you. Damn, I don't want you to die of hypothermia."

"I don't feel bad. I just feel sad." You pouted, while she took your pants off. "Why do you have a new girlfriend? I-is that why you never c-called me back?" She stopped, biting her lower lip. "I-I don't –"

"Please, just – just stop." She pleaded, resting her hand on your cheek. "There's no girlfriend. And I just –" She sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I'll get you some clothes."

You never saw her coming back.

You fell asleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You woke up already in some comfy clothes. Your whole body ached, especially your chin. You had a bag of ice on your ankle.

"Please, tell me you are alright." Your eyes darted up, finding a worried Santana staring at you. She kneeled down, touching your forehead. "No more fever."

"No more." You agreed.

"Don't ever do that again. I was – Britt, you are really hurt." She stroked your hair, pulling a few wet strands away from your face. "Why would you even do that?"

"You never called back." You pouted. "You promised you wouldn't go away."

"I know, I know. I just –" She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Don't tell me you ran to my place because I wasn't answering my phone."

"Well –"

"Fuck." She groaned, shutting her eyes again. "I can't believe you did this. I can't – Britt, you got hurt because of me."

"No, I got hurt because you should never run when it's snowing." You muttered, making her smile a little. "I'm sorry I came. I should have called, but – well, you weren't exactly answering your phone. But – yeah, I'm sorry. If I knew your girlfriend was over –"

"Did you even hear what I said to you?" She asked softly. "There's no girlfriend. That was Dani, my neighbor and my friend. She likes to come over when she smells food inside my place." You laughed, immediately regretting it because it made your chin ache. "Promise me you will never do this again."

"Only if you promise you're gonna start answering the phone." You shot back, and she just nodded.

"Okay. I will." She stroked your hair for a few other seconds before getting on her feet. "Are you hungry? I finished making dinner while you were asleep."

"I-I don't wanna bother." You muttered. "I should go back home now."

She laughed. "You are not going anywhere. Look outside." She pointed to the window. The blizzard seemed to have gotten even worse. "You are staying here. And as soon as this blizzard stops, I'm taking you to see a doctor."

"But my cat –"

"Brittany, no." She said firmly. "Call a neighbor. You have a spare key, right? Inside that flower pot, right?" You nodded slowly. "Awesome. Then call someone. You are not leaving tonight." She went back, kneeling down again. "Don't be upset. We can watch one of these movies you like later, alright? I don't like it when you get upset." She placed her hand on your face, staring deeply at you. And then –

And then she kissed you.

It didn't last though. One moment she was kissing you and the other she was pulling away. "I'm sorry. I – I'll bring us dinner."

You didn't move.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She helped you to her bedroom later. She made you lay down on her bed, and she grabbed covers and an extra pillow to lift your leg. And then she started grabbing sheets and another pillow and covers, and you frowned at that. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch, B." She shrugged but you shook your head.

"Stay here. There's enough room for both of us."

"I don't think that's a good idea." She muttered.

"Santana." She stopped, but didn't look at you. "Please, stay here."

She sighed, but dropped all the things on her hands and crawled to bed with you. And she tried to lie down away from you, but you pulled her closer. You made her lie on your chest and – and then you kissed her.

She tried to pull away, but you kissed her even harder then. And she gave up. She grabbed your face, deepening the kiss with her tongue. And yes, your chin and your leg hurt like bitch, but you held her closer, because you were too scared she'd stop. And –

It was useless.

She broke the kiss, gasping for air. And she looked at you with terrified eyes, like she had done this awful thing. But you held her in place, waiting for her to calm herself. And, for a minute, she didn't move away from your lap and you didn't make her leave, even though your knee ached, even though you knew it probably would make your leg worse.

"We can't happen." She stated.

"But why not?"

"Because." She got away from you, getting on her feet. "Just stop it, Britt. Please."

"But –"

"N-no." She interrupted. "I'm taking the couch."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You didn't go after her. You chose to let her be. But that didn't mean you slept well.

You woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and with your ankle and chin hurting more than ever. You hissed in pain, trying to go back to sleep. But it didn't go away, and you couldn't really bear it anymore, so you chose to wake Santana up. You did feel a little guilty with that, but there was no fucking way you could spend the rest of the night with no painkillers.

So you tried to walk to the living room jumping with your left foot as quietly as you could, which wasn't really a success. But she was already up anyway. Staring deeply at the window, watching the snow fall.

"Santana?"

She turned around sharply, widened eyes. Her expression softened when she spotted you, though. "Is everything alright?"

"N-no." You sniffled. Yeah, the pain was really getting you. "Can I have some painkillers please? My chin and my ankle really hurt right now."

"Shit, I forgot to give you some before bed." She mumbled, walking fast towards you. She wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you to the couch. "Wait here, okay? I'll get you something."

A moment later, she was back with a pill in her hand and a huge glass of water. She handed to you, waiting silently as you took them. "Thank you." You muttered, and she shrugged. "Why aren't you sleeping? I mean, it's pretty late."

"I haven't been sleeping much these days." She answered, not looking directly at you. "But you should sleep. You'll be better in the morning, I suppose."

"I haven't been sleeping much too." She stared in silence, and you didn't dare to continue. You watched her too, as she bates her lower lip, chewing it. You hated when she did that; it had only been a few days, but you already knew she'd only do that when she was really nervous or thinking too hard. And you didn't like when she was nervous.

"Come here." She finally broke the silence, opening her arms. You frowned, but slowly moved towards her. She wrapped her arms around you, helping you lie down on her chest. Gently, she moved on the couch, so now she was lying too. "Can you pull the covers? It gets kinda cold during the night."

"Are you sure?" You questioned, and she just tightened the hold.

"I just want to sleep, Brittany. I haven't had a proper night of sleep in days." She sighed. "Just – please, pull the covers." You nodded, doing as she asked.

You fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You woke up in the morning still on her arms. She wasn't asleep, though. Her hand was under your shirt – hers, actually –, fingers gently running through your stomach. You remained quietly for another moment, enjoying the peace between you two. And just after that you moved, placing your hand on top of hers.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, and you nodded quietly. "I did too."

You shifted just a little bit, so now you could actually see her. And damn, she was just too beautiful. "Santana." You called, lifting your hand to touch her face. She was looking at you, waiting. "Santana, I'm in love with you."

"Don't be." She muttered, removing your hand from her face. "We can't be together, Brittany."

"Is there someone else?" You asked, and she frowned.

"I told you last night, no girlfriend."

"Are you gonna die?"

"Wha – no?" Her eyes widened. "I mean, someday yes, but I don't think –"

"Do you think homosexuality is a sin?"

"Uh, no? Britt, I'm not quite sure –"

"Aren't you in love with me too?"

She didn't answer that. She didn't have to.

"Then I'm sorry, but that doesn't make any sense." You concluded, sitting on the couch. You forgot you'd fallen yesterday. "Ouch."

"Careful." She helped you sit. "Britt, I can't do this, okay? You deserve someone better."

"That's bullshit, Santana." You snapped. "And that makes no sense at all. I wanna be with you, you wanna be with me. It's just so simple!"

"No, it's not!" She hissed. "I'm not good enough for you, Brittany! I haven't – fuck, I-I was so jealous that day. I was so scared you'd want him. I-I didn't even ask if you were okay."

"You can't be serious." You sighed. "Santana, I told you already. I understand. You made one fucking awful mistake, but you didn't mean to. I understand why you did it, alright? Stop torturing yourself over and over again."

"Brittany." She turned around sharply, grabbing your face. "This is not just about me. This is about me putting myself first, this is about you trying to protect _him,_ this is about how fucked up we are. You're feeling for me the same thing you felt for him. This is pure addiction." She let go of your face, dropping herself back on the couch.

"No, now that's not true." You tried to get up, but she held you on the couch. "I'm fine." You muttered. "I don't have to try hard to impress you. I don't even try, actually. And you don't either. I feel safe around you, I feel _loved_ when I'm with you. Not just when you are touching me, but when you look at me. You make me feel like a girl again. Like my body wakes up." She shut her eyes, and you immediately moved your hands to her face. "You changed me. You made me grow up. You reminded me I'm still – that I don't need someone else in my life. And I am doing well alone, San. But there's always this thing missing. I'm not complete without you."

She was crying. Her eyes were still closed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry I protected him. I was – I just didn't want to believe it. And I forgive you for freaking out too, Santana." She leaned into your touch, covering your hands with hers. "I don't wanna be with anyone else. I – I couldn't. I'm yours. Proudly so." You smiled, moving closer to her. She opened her eyes, blinking to avoid the tears.

"Do you seriously wanna be with me?" She asked after a few seconds, eyes on you.

"I've never been so certain of anything in my whole life."

"Okay." She sighed, smiling. "I – I wanna be with you too, Britt. B-but we'll have to start over." You pouted, making her giggle. "Britt, I'm serious. I-I wanna take you out on a date. A-and I wanna bring you flowers. A-and I wanna do a-all of t-these cheesy things couples do, I-I wanna – I just feel like we deserve a fresh start."

"Okay. I got your point." You agreed. "I kinda like the story of us meeting at the coffee shop. I wanna stop by to get chocolate muffins, a-and I want you to stop an old lady to buy the last one just to save it for me." She laughed, nodding in agreement. "But I really wanna kiss you now."

She didn't answer. Instead, she moved closer, pulling your face closer to hers and closing the huge gap between your mouths. And you've probably never been as happy as today. You had all you ever wanted. A nice job, a nice apartment, awesome friends, independence and now the perfect girl.

Well, she wasn't exactly perfect. But she was perfect for you.

"Ouch." You groaned when she accidentally hit your chin.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." She broke the kiss, placing cool fingers close to your cut. "The snow isn't that bad anymore, but we still can't go out. It could get worse, and there's no hospital around. The subway isn't working too." You pouted again. "I can make a curative, though."

"Please?" She rolled her eyes, nodding.

"I'll make you a curative. And then we'll take a nap." She stated, and even though you'd woken up like, half an hour ago, you couldn't agree more. "We could nap all day."

"I actually had some other ideas about the rest of the day."

"I'll only agree if your ideas include cuddling and watching a bunch of movies." You quirked a brow, but she shrugged. "No sexy times for you, miss Pierce."

"But why not? That's really unfair."

"Because you're all hurt. And we agreed on a fresh start."

"Can't we 'fresh start' it tomorrow?"

"No."

"God, you are absolutely the worst."

"I know. But you like it."

You couldn't do anything but smile.

She was absolutely right.


	14. A New Beggining

**A/N: Well, look who's back! Hi!  
As some of you already know, I was on a vacation (forgot to mention, my bad), and I really didn't have the time or the privacy to write anything while I was out. Seriously, I wasn't gonna write a smut chapter with my mom reading by my side. BUT ANYWAYS! I'm back, and I wanna wish you all a happy new year and a late merry xmas:) consider this chapter a late christmas present, okay?  
Do expect another chapter in the next few days, just not tomorrow, because I'm probably gonna pass out in my bed.  
See you all soon!  
XoXo**

 **Jout Jout**

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Day 1**

It was really hard to walk on crutches without slipping, but it would only be for a week, which meant you had two more days with it. At least that was what your doctor promised you, and you prayed for him to be right, because you had to go back to work. Broadway couldn't wait.

But now you had some other important things to take care of.

Santana worked on a small, cozy coffee shop. It was very close from the Central Park and not that far from Santana's apartment. You'd never been there before; you'd been busy, and Santana told you that you'd to get better before your "fresh start", but you just couldn't wait anymore. You were missing her a lot; you two texted every day, but considering you were spending your days alone with LT at home, it wasn't enough. So you ignored her requests and decided to head to the coffee shop.

She didn't see you right away. She was busy making some drinks for some guy, back turned at you. Dani, her friend, did. She smiled at you, waving. You tried to wave back, but then you remember you couldn't just let go of your crutches, so you just smiled back. And then –

She saw you.

A big smile appeared on her lips. You moved forward to the balcony as fast as it was possible for you, which was incredibly slow, but she didn't seem to mind. She got out of behind the balcony, walking fast towards you. She wrapped her arms around your neck instantly, almost making you fall down. "Hey you." You whispered, feeling her smile against your skin.

"Hi yourself." She answered, finally letting go of you. "What are you doing here, blondie? I thought we'd agreed –"

"I know, but I was missing you." You pouted. "I'd nothing to do at home. And Quinn said she'd stop by, but she'd to take Beth to the doctor, so she couldn't come. A-and I really had to go grocery shopping, but I think I forgot my wallet at her place or something, and now I'm here."

"You forgot your wallet at _my_ place, silly. Quinn was going to stop by to get it, but since you are already here –" She shrugged, gesturing for you to sit. "Are you hungry? I can get you something."

"Maybe later. Can you stay here for like, five minutes?" She laughed, but nodded.

"Are you that needy?" She joked, arm wrapping around your shoulder. "Come here, blondie. I missed you too." You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. "How's your leg doing?"

"It's mostly fine. My knee hurts, though." You leaned closer into the hug, wrapping an arm around her as well. "When do you get off?"

"Wanky." She grinned, her dimples showing. You frowned, but she just waved it off. "Actually, I was about to do that. But we can stay here just for a little bit. Just – wait here for a second, kay?"

"Why?" You asked, but she was untangling herself from you. You watched her going to the balcony, telling something to Dani and then sitting back by your side. "What were you doing?"

"Just asking for a favor." She smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. "You look really beautiful with these glasses, you know?" You blushed, making her grin even wider. "And I see you finally learned how to use eyeliner."

"Hey! That's quite hard, okay?" You huffed, crossing your arms.

"Of course it is, Britt. Just tell me something." You looked back at her, frowning at her grin. "Does it have anything to do with Dani?"

"What? N-no!" You lied, feeling your cheeks growing even hotter. "Maybe…"

"I told you we're just friends. Stop worrying about her; I find you much more beautiful."

"Who's more beautiful than whom?" Dani asked, a crooked smile on her face. "Hey Britt! How's your chin doing?"

"It's fine, I guess." You smiled back. You really liked her, though you were a bit jealous of her interaction with Santana. She even managed to steal your number from Santana's phone just to text you to tell all the silly things Santana had been doing. "What is that?"

"Special request." She answered. "Grumpy here asked me to bring these to you." She set a cup of something in front of you and a plate with chocolate muffin. "And I know you didn't ask, but you get way too grumpy when you don't drink coffee."

"Thanks, Dani." You blushed. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry, that's on me." She winked at you, and you were about to reply, but Santana stopped you.

"Thanks, Neytiri."

"No problem, Satan." Santana rolled her eyes, turning her attention towards you once again.

"You know," She started, sipping her coffee. "I had this weird feeling that you'd come by today. So I kept the muffin." You grinned, blushing slightly. "It's true, I swear! I just – I thought it would be a nice start if you showed up." And now she was the one who was blushing. You couldn't help but smile.

"I take this is hot chocolate?" You asked, pointing to your cup.

"Uh, maybe?" She smiled shyly, and it was seriously the most adorable thing you'd ever seen. "Try it; I'm sure you'll like it." She grabbed the muffin, guiding it to your mouth. Just when you were about to bite it, she took it away, smiling as she bate it. "Told you. Delicious."

"Hey!" You protested, but it only made her laugh even harder. "Not fair. That was totally not on our story."

"I decided to change it a little bit." She told you, now allowing you to try the muffin. It was, indeed, delicious. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Since when you have a car?" You quirked a brow, but she just smiled.

"I don't. But I could figure something."

"No need to. I can walk."

"Then let me walk with you at least." She offered, pushing the muffing towards you again. "You came all the way down here to see me. I'd feel better if you'd let me."

"Alright."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She ended up dragging you to Target, even though you told her like, a hundred times that she didn't have to. But she insisted, claiming that she had her own shopping to do. She managed to get one of these wheelchairs for you so you didn't have to keep walking.

"I think I got everything." She muttered, checking the few items on the cart. "Do you need anything else?"

"Nope." She nodded, guiding the cart to the cashier.

She kept you distracted, telling you about the few days you spent apart (not that you didn't know any of it already), about the creepy guy who moved next door, about how Dani made her cook dinner because she claimed to have starved when you came over that day. And you were so caught up on her that you didn't even realize it was already time to pay. But, when you attempted to, she had already paid for everything.

"Santana!" You exclaimed, but she just grinned. "I can pay for my stuff."

"It's no big deal, Britt. You got what? A box of cereal, bacon and juice?"

"And eggs and hot chocolate. I'm paying you."

"I can think of a way or to you could pay me." She winked, making your face redder than the tomatoes she bought. She helped you out of the wheelchair, driving the cart to the parking lot as you followed her just a few steps behind. "I'm coming over."

"Uh, what?"

"I know it's kinda rude, but yes, I'm inviting myself over to your place." She stopped the cart behind a black car, which you had no idea of the brand.

"Whose car is this?" You asked, not arguing with her.

"Dani's. She's giving us a ride." She shrugged. You frowned at her, but she just smiled, leaning in and pecking your cheek. "Don't ask too many questions. Come on, let's get in."

"Are you like, going to murder me or something?"

"I feel like we had this conversation before." She laughed, opening the backdoor for you. "I'd never murder you. You're way too cute."

You blushed again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Dani helped you and Santana take the groceries upstairs before saying goodbye. You were still slightly confused, but she didn't seem to notice. Or care. She dragged you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you to her chest.

"I really missed you." She mumbled, pressing kisses to your hair. "I was planning on coming over later, but you were faster this time." You grinned, adjusting yourself on her arms. "I really missed holding you."

"We are not very good on this slow thing, are we?" You joked, and she giggled.

"No, we are not. But I still wanna take you out on a real date. But I guess it's alright for tonight."

"I'll bring you flowers." You stated. "And maybe chocolate. And – well, I'll spoil you a lot. And we'll be sappy."

"Yes. I wanna be like one of these hormonal teenagers on their first date." Santana added, smiling with you.

"We could be one of these couples that are so sweet that they almost kill people of diabetes."

"We'll do hand holding and smile like to idiots."

"And we'll – I don't really know what else couples do."

"Me neither." She shrugged, pulling you even closer to her chest. "But we'll figure it out."

You hummed in agreement, snuggling on her arms. You closed your eyes for a minute, absorbing her scent. She smelled like chocolate. And – and a little bit like you. You grinned at that, noticing the shirt she was wearing was actually _yours,_ and a shirt you'd been looking for since you two came back to New York. And you were about to make a comment on how cute she looked with it on, but then –

"Santana?"

"Huh?"

"Not that I'm complaining, but why are you in my apartment?" You quirked a brow, turning around to look at her. "And how in hell did Dani know we were at Target?"

"You spend way too much time analyzing all the Lucky Charms boxes. I called her." She explained, hand running through your locks. "And I actually came to cook you dinner."

"W-what?"

"Well, to cook _us_ dinner, actually. I'm kinda hungry." She straightened herself on the couch, forcing you to sit as well. "Quinn called me to say she wouldn't make it today. And she said that you were probably surviving over cereals and junk food, even though I _did_ teach you how to cook a little." You blushed at that, slightly ashamed. But it's not like you'd only been eating junk food. You did cook a little, but it got kinda hard when you had to manage to keep yourself up with only one foot on the ground. "So I'm here to make sure you eat properly. And maybe to cuddle a little, if you are up to that."

"You are literally the best." You leaned in, capturing her lips in a peck. "I'm saving kisses for our sappy date."

"I can survive 'till there." She smiled. "If I get another kiss." You kissed her again. "Okay, I guess I can wait now."

She got up, but not before stealing a kiss from you, which made you complain with a pout, but not that you actually minded. And then she was inside your kitchen, grabbing the pasta she supposedly bought for herself (later on, she'd say she actually ate some of the pasta, so it didn't count as buying it for you), and tomatoes and some other vegetables and a thing you thought was sauce? Well, you should definitely spend some more time in the kitchen.

And half an hour later, she was back with two plates of pasta. She handed one to you, sitting on your side, arms brushing. And, as you already expected, it was fucking delicious. She laughed at you when you managed to get sauce all over your face and, (not so) against your will, she kissed it clean for you. And just later on, you cuddled in a very awkward position, thanks to your feet that _must remain up, regardless of your activity,_ as your doctor punctuated. You fell asleep watching _Up!_ with her, her head on your chest and arm wrapped around your waist.

And you just –


	15. Day 87

**A/N: Okay, I lied. You get two chapters today. Happy New Year!**

 **XoXo  
Jout Jout**

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Day 87**

You happily bounced on the street, a huge grin on your lips and a box in your hands. You'd never been happier; since your first date (you did bring her flowers and a box of chocolate), you and Santana had been acting like two sappy teens. You loved it though; you called or texted her every day when you couldn't manage to see her, and she'd make you lunch sometimes because she claimed you weren't eating well, and, and –

And your friends loved her. Mike and she got along well from the very beginning, and she really liked Artie as well (though she claimed he had this huge crush on you). You loved her friends too; Rachel and Kurt were great (though a bit noisy), but your favorite one was Dani. She'd send you snapchats of Santana whenever she stopped by on her place to _steal my precious food,_ as Santana grumbled. She'd text you telling that Santana wouldn't shut up about you, and she sent you a photo of the mess Santana had made on her bedroom trying to pick an outfit for your first date. And second. And third. And –

In eighty seven days, both of your lives had changed a lot. Santana had quitted the job as a waitress and was now working as an assistant for a label. And there was more: a week ago, Mike got you a job as a choreographer for this new singer, Mercedes Jones, who was actually also recording her new album on the label Santana was working on. And she had asked you to go with her on tour, as her lead dancer and as her choreographer! But there was even more. Two days ago, she asked Santana to help her change a few things in the lyrics, and after Santana sang with her the changes she'd done, she's asked her to join you both on the tour! And of course, there were still a few things to be worked on, because the tour wouldn't be happening for three months, but you both accepted it.

On day fifty, precisely, she'd asked you to be her girlfriend. And she was nervous, and blushing, and stuttering, and basically a huge mess, which was incredibly cute, considering Santana Lopez was never nervous. Just when it came to you, as Dani would say.

On day sixty three, you told her you loved her. She was just there, cutting some spices as you fried the onions for her. And you were making a duet of _Baby It's Cold Outside_ , and trying to dance without really moving. It was awkward, it was sweet. And you just blurted it out. And she stared at you blankly for a second, before replying she loved you too and forgetting about the spices and the onions because she was too busy pushing you against a wall.

You were madly in love.

"Hey baby!" You greeted, stopping in front of her building.

 _"_ _Hey B, where are you?"_ You could feel a little bit of concern in her voice. Since that accident on the night you twisted your ankle, she'd been scared to death that you'd slip again and die or something like that, although you promised her a dozen times that you were definitely _never_ going to run during a blizzard again.

"Downstairs. Open up!" She hummed something that sounded like a _yes,_ and soon the door made that funny sound and you pushed it open. Happily, you walked upstairs as fast as it was possible, considering that the box was kind of heavy. "Hey you." You smiled, trying to make room to kiss her real quickly before getting inside.

"Hi. What's that?" She frowned, pointing to the box with her chin.

"Your Christmas present, silly!" You said as if it was the most obvious thing on the universe. She carefully took a step forward, kneeling down by its side with you. "I _was_ going to wait, but I couldn't anymore. LT wasn't really happy with me."

She frowned again, but opened the box.

And her chin dropped.

And she looked like she was going to kill you.

"You totally didn't." She stated, pointing to the box.

"I totally did."

"Brittany."

"Santana."

"I can't keep it."

"Yes, you can."

"I'm serious."

"Me too."

"Britt."

"Baby."

"I think I wanna kill you."

"You promised you never would."

"I'm changing my mind."

And then it squeaked. You looked happily at the small puppy in the box, wiggling his tail at Santana. "See? He loves you already." She looked at the small dog, reaching her hand out to touch him.

And he licked it.

And you knew she was totally taken.

"I hate you." She mumbled, carefully taking the puppy out of the box. He squeaked again, licking her face until she was grinning. She held it close to her chest, stroking just behind his ear. "I seriously hate you right now. How could you – you _knew_ I wouldn't be able to say no." You grinned, sitting closer to them. "Britt, _why_?"

"Because you always wanted a dog. And because you love dogs. And this little guy," You gestured towards the puppy. "needed a home. His sisters bullied him, did you know? I was gonna wait a few more days, but the old lady that was taking care of them told me that they were mistreating him because he's the smallest. So I brought him home, and now we're here."

"They bullied him?" She asked in shock, with big tearful eyes. You nodded, kissing her and stroking the puppy's head.

"Yes, they were pretty mean to him. But it doesn't matter anymore. You'd never be mean to him." She shook her head clutching him tighter to her chest.

"I-I'd never hurt him, Britt-Britt. Why did they mistreat him?" She was actually crying. You weren't counting on that.

"Oh baby." You cooed, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her head. "But that's past now. He's got a new home, a new mommy, a new bed and toys –"

"You got him a bed and toys?" She asked in disbelief, and you chuckled, nodding. You moved near the box, pulling a blue, fluffy bed for it. You also pulled a small that was, even though it was the smaller on the store, bigger than his head, a cow that was made of that material baby's toys are made and a stuffed bunny. "Oh, look at that!" She let it go to the ground, watching as it clumsily attempted to run towards the cow. Santana giggled as he tried to chew it, and you laughed too.

"I got him pots for water and food, and this thing the old lady also said he should eat for the next month or so." You showed her a can with puppy's food, which seemed really disgusting. "And you should pick a name for him! We have to get him a collar, and –"

She dropped you on the ground, mouth glued to yours. It took you a moment to realize what was happening, but you were soon kissing her back. You tried to sit with her, but she kept pushing you back to the floor, hands roaming under your shirt. And then, she finally let you sit, wrapping her legs around your waist and arms around your neck. "Bedroom." She stated, and you couldn't agree more. You carried her to bed, trying not to stumble on anything (like the puppy). "Clothes off. Now."

You loved when she got bossy like this. On day fifteen, when you finally made love (yes, you managed to wait), she practically ripped your clothes. And you were going to complain, because you really liked that shirt, but when you opened your mouth she entered you with two fingers, so.

"Wait." She said as you crawled on top of her, hands cupping her breasts. "I wanna, - _oh! –_ I wanna try something new."

"What is it?"

"Trust me, you want it too." She pushed you gently, walking to her closet. "I was going to wait too, but." She smirked, pulling the strap-on you bought months ago. "I thought you'd like to try."

"Can I wear it?" You asked, and she nodded quietly, grabbing the instructions that were in the box. You two cleaned the toy and she helped you put it on. It felt – _weird._ You weren't exactly used with having a dick bouncing on your body, but whatever. "Lie down." You told her pushing her back to bed. She immediately started pinching her nipples, moaning in pleasure. Your eyes got darker, the heat between your legs barely bearable. And then you pushed in.

It took a moment for her to adjust with its size, but soon you started pumping. In a very slow pace, a smirk playing on your lips. "Don't be such a tease." She grumbled, hips moving towards the toy. You held her legs, attempting to stop her from moving. You wanted to be in control.

In a particular hard trust, she moaned, eyes shutting. You started moving faster and harder, but careful not hurt her. "Are you okay?" You asked, circling her clit with your thumb.

"Y-yeah, d-don't stop." She breathed, and then started mumbling something in Spanish. She wasn't particularly loud, as you learned on the past months. And you also learned she'd curse (a lot) in Spanish when she was coming. "Britt."

"Come for me, baby." You trusted inside her again, not daring to slow your pace. Two or three trusts later, she arched her back, mouth slightly open as she came. You did your best to prolong her orgasm, keeping the toy inside her wet walls and circling her clit. And just then, her body dropped on the bed, eyes closed and breath quicker.

You took the strap off, lying down by her side. But she wasn't done. She entered you with a finger with no warning, making your back immediately arch. She moved fast, adding a finger as her mouth worked on your nipples. And it was embarrassing really, because it didn't take you a minute to come. You shut your eyes, enjoying the wave of pleasure through your body as she giggled.

"Well, that was quick." You groaned, covering your face with your hands. "Awn baby. I'm not nearly done yet." She kissed your head, but lied on your chest for a moment.

And then something squeaked.

"Well, I think you _are_ done." You grinned, pulling the puppy up. It crawled on you, almost falling, and then laid between both of you. "Have you decided a name for him?" You asked smiling as Santana brought the puppy closer to her.

"Maybe Billy. Like Billy Joel, you know?" She muttered, snuggling closer to you. The puppy, _Billy,_ now snored lightly, curled into a ball.

"Okay. I like Billy." You hummed in agreement, smiling. Santana sighed, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"I hate you. But I love you more."

"I love you too."


	16. And We Lived Happily Ever After

**A/N: Okay, so I lied again. But I'm about to pass out anyway.  
Happy 2016!  
And just for you to know, this is the epilogue. It was a fun ride, guys:) I'll be writting more soon.  
Love you all  
Jout Jout**

 **xxxxxxxxxxx**

 **Day 1217**

It had been like this for nearly a month and a half now.

She wouldn't speak about it with you, but she would throw these little hints all the time. And you did notice, of course. But it was just way too cute to watch.

So here's the thing: Santana wanted a baby.

You weren't opposed to it; you enjoyed the idea of being a mom with her. And there was nothing stopping you from trying; just last year, you both quitted the universe of tours, shows and stuff like that. Santana decided to open her own label now, and you decided you were better of as a teacher. Of course, she was still working on a new album, and every once in a blue moon an artist would invite her to participate on a song, or even a show in NY, but she definitely had quitted all of the tours.

You'd been living together since you came back from your last tour as well. And oh, you also got married. No, no parties or that huge ceremony. You took a few photos, went out for dinner in a nice place and had some awesome sex after that. But Santana didn't want a party, and honestly neither did you.

Your sister got pregnant, and your awfully cute goddaughter had been born four months ago. And Santana was madly in love with that baby; since Hannah and Hank moved to New York, she'd been taking every little opportunity to spend time with her goddaughter. And that's pretty much how it all started.

She was very subtle on the first few times. She'd talk about how sweet the baby was, and how cool would that be if you could spend more time with her. And then she asked for your mom to send her your baby pictures, and she kept looking at them and saying you were just _too_ cute, and she even showed you a few of herself. But then –

But then she started to actually make you stop in front of every showcase that had anything remotely related to babies. Like a sock. And she started to tag you on Facebook's posts related to babies, with comments such as _"look how cute, baby!",_ or _"imagine us with one of these :P"_ and things like that. And it was funny and cute, and you genuinely wanted to tell her you also wanted a baby, and that you could try, but it would make you lose all of your entertainment.

But then.

Two weeks ago, she started sleeping with her hand on her stomach. And it wasn't just that; she'd stare at her body in the mirror silently for way too long, both hands set on her stomach. The other day, a movie frightened her, and she instinctively protected her stomach. And you would never have the heart to tell her that you saw, but a few days ago, she was in front of the mirror with a pillow under her shirt, analyzing her body. You were in awe, but you knew she'd die of embarrassment if she knew you saw.

She'd been sad this past week. She'd look at babies, then at you and then her face would be sad. And it broke your heart, but you were slightly disappointed because she wouldn't bring the subject up.

"Just tell her already." Quinn told you, squeezing your arm. "She is probably just scared you'll like, run away if she mention kids. She loves you so much she'd give up on that to be with you."

"But I don't want her to." You murmured, sadly. "I just wish she'd tell me about it."

"She probably wishes you'd talk about it as well, B."

And then there was the day you couldn't stand that anymore. You were watching a movie on Netflix, cuddling on your bed. You could tell she wasn't even paying attention; she was staring blankly at a wall, hand on her stomach. And she was just so sad, you couldn't take it. So carefully, you placed your own hand on her stomach, making her dart her eyes back to you.

You shared a long look, and then you kissed her forehead. "You're gonna do a great mom, baby. I mean it."

Her eyes were tearful, almost like if she understood what you meant. You smiled, capturing her lips in a kiss. "We'd do great parents, wouldn't we?"

"We _will,_ San. Whenever you are ready."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Day 1585**

It took three attempts until Santana got pregnant. Three attempts meant three times waiting the result of a pharmacy test; three times you've spent over a month being careful with Santana's health. It meant three times acting weird between your friends and family, since the only one who knew was Quinn, and it meant three times you let yourself get hopeful over something that might not happen. And it also meant three negative tests that nearly destroyed you and your wife ( _what's wrong with me, Britt?)_ , it meant that she even considered giving up the dream of carrying your child. But then, exactly four days after the last negative test, Santana felt extremely nauseous over the smell of coffee. You had to throw it away and make her some tea instead. Then, two days later, she started having these real bad cramps. And you felt useless, because seriously, there was nothing you could do.

And then she bought another test.

And you didn't even know about it, you just found out when she stormed out of the door, tearful eyes and a huge smile, throwing herself on your arms with the stick on her hand. And you scheduled an appointment for her the next day, because you wanted to be sure it was there. It seemed just surreal.

It wasn't an easy pregnancy. She had several emotional crisis, several cramps and nauseas. And much for your horror, she had the weirdest cravings a pregnant woman could ever have. She'd eat literally everything with ketchup, or she'd eat only Mexican food for god knows how long. And she was grumpy, and sometimes insecure, and –

And you could only love her even more.

One day you arrived home and were greeted with the sound of sobs coming from your bedroom. You didn't hesitate on running there, barely greeting LT and Bobby. She was curled in bed, her seven months old belly barely allowing her to lie on that position.

"Go away!" She cried, burying her face on the pillow. You shrank, but didn't turn back. You were getting used to these crises.

"Santana." You mumbled, climbing onto the bed. "Baby, come on. Look at me." You soothed, stroking her hair. "Come on, baby. Talk to me. You know I'm here for you?"

"I-I'm disgusting!" She sniffled. "I'm fat, a-and I'm ugly, a-and y-you don't w-want – you won't want me anymore 'cause I'm gonna be all stretched!" She hugged her pillow even tighter, muffling the sounds of her cries.

You lied by her side, arm wrapping around her. Gently, you made her turn around, 'till she was face to face with you. "You are not ugly. Or fat. Or disgusting, or – god, San. I could never see you as anything but the gorgeous woman I love." You wiped the trace of tears away from her eyes. "I'll never desire you less, Santana. If anything, I'll always want you more. Even when we're both old and all wrinkled." She chuckled a little at that, snuggling a little closer in your arms. "But if it is really important to you, I think you look really hot with this baby bump."

"I just – I love you so much sometimes."

"I love you too."

Making love was a bit uncomfortable for her, but you always found a way. A different position, or even with the strap-on. But you always made sure to kiss every inch of her body, specially her stretch marks. You just knew it was the little things that made her feel loved.

Her labor wasn't exactly easy either. But you stood with her until the very last second. Holding her hand, soothing her cries, accepting it when she blamed the pain on you. And now –

"Isn't he handsome?" She whispered, watching as the small baby peacefully slept on his crib. "He looks a lot like you."

"He's dark hair just like his mami."

"And blue eyes just like his mommy." She sighed happily as you wrapped your arms around your waist. "We should really give him a name. I don't think we can keep calling him 'baby' forever."

"Yeah, and it would be confusing, because you are also my baby." She grinned, turning her face to kiss your cheek. "I was thinking, maybe – I don't know, but what do you think of Cody? I mean, it does sound good. Cody Lopez-Pierce."

"I like Cody." She hummed in agreement, still staring in awe at him. "Hello Cody. Welcome home."

You two stood there for a little longer, watching him sleep. "We should get some rest. You must be tired, baby."

"I am." She agreed, sighing but agreeing on going to bed. "Do you think we're gonna be good parents?"

"The best of them all." You promised her. "Now, cuddle."

"Cuddle." She lied by your side, spooning you. "You're gonna be a great mommy."

"And you a great mami."

And, indeed, they were.


End file.
